


Borrowed Womb

by 3rdgenderfromthesun



Series: Borrowed Womb Time Hop [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Alpha Derek, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Child Death, Claiming Bites, Coercion, Family Drama, Forced Bonding, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Knotting, Lying Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Male Lactation, Mates, Mpreg, Nesting, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Pack Dynamics, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scent Marking, Sexism, Supernatural Society, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, cannon deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 68,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdgenderfromthesun/pseuds/3rdgenderfromthesun
Summary: Omegas were no longer property like they had been in Stiles' grandparent's day, but they were still very much kept. Stiles balked at the idea of being owned by his future mate, so he did what he did best. He planned and sought loopholes and made charts. He found his way through miles of tradition and expectation until he decided on a livable option. The only thing he didn't expect was Derek Hale's desperation for a cub and his angry, traumatized, and filthy rich family.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Borrowed Womb Time Hop [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615705
Comments: 141
Kudos: 817
Collections: Sterek love, Teen wolf





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to stress that there is a lot of ABLEISM in this story. Stiles is a solid jerk for the first few chapters, but he does learn from this. 
> 
> Also, there is a CHILD DEATH, and while I decided not to describe it, it is referenced repeatedly and the trauma and grief is addressed often. 
> 
> Please let me know if I missed any other tags.

“Stop humming.”

The person hovering over Stiles with a black translucent sheet sounded like they were glaring at him, but their face was covered by their hazmat suit mask and the black silk hood over it. Stiles was shivering in the cold, which seemed heavily counteractive considering he was supposed to be sexy and available. Instead he was just naked and twitchy with his dick trying to crawl into his body.

“Sorry,” Stiles whispered.

The room didn't echo even though it was huge. The walls were lined with something black that completely absorbed sound. The room had _no scent_ either. As an omega he had a better sense of smell than betas or alphas, but his nose was attuned to alphas much as alphas were attuned to omegas. Normally smelling an unrelated alpha was a visceral reaction to Stiles, so he'd thought he'd be excited to be without it. Instead it was creepy as hell and Stiles was anxious, which was why he was humming again.

The person leaning over him sighed in frustration and Stiles dropped back to silence. The gauzy, patterned sheet was laid over his features, confusing and blurring him to even werewolf eyes. Stiles couldn't really see out of it either, especially with the black ceiling and walls of the dome room. He could vaguely see the figures in plastic hazmat suits and flowing symbolic robes diminishing as they left him on the table like a sacrifice. It was an apt thought.

It felt like ages before the doors finally opened and a line of alphas walked into the Temple. Stiles instinctively breathed in and caught their musky scent. He was already on heat, had to be to partake, but it wasn't the cloying, desperate, needy mess that romance novels had teens hot and bothered to read. Instead it was an achy need to be filled and a scent that made alphas around him instantly hard. That combined with his typical response to alphas started up a bit of fire in his loins, his cock twitching despite the chill as he felt his insides clench. His canal was going from elimination to procreation just at the smell, and this instantaneous, reaction was why omegas like Stiles were so restricted in life. The alphas would be searching for mates via this same reaction; by the scent of the slick he began to produce when in their presence, which was now made musky with heat. The cloth, darkness, and sound dampening wasn't just symbolic, it was made to be sure that they chose their mates solely by scent as that should give them healthy genetic matches. It was all rather animalistic and Stiles was excited and just a bit terrified along with a dash of hope.

The Alpha's walked down the long row of padded tables, and although he couldn't see or hear them stalk and sniff he knew they were on the prowl. Hunting. Stiles' breathing picked up. He couldn't even hear the other omegas around him, and he'd only passed two on his way in. Were there a lot? He'd had to arrange transport into the next town over to find a Temple because Beacon Hills was so small, but sometimes people went to other states just to find more viable candidates. There could be anywhere from two alphas to hundreds and the same variables for the omegas. What if there were so many omegas he didn't get claimed? What if there were so few that he was left with the old ones here for a second omega after theirs got too old to breed? What if...

Someone was leaning over him, sniffing the air above him, a claw carelessly scritching his thigh. Stiles instinctively held his breath and then wondered if he should. He'd brushed his teeth, but what if breathing in his breath was how they figured out he was the right one? What if the mint disguised his scent? He'd bathed in unscented wash only to brush with mint! What was he thinking?!

The alpha's scent drifted away and Stiles realized he'd left. The next who leaned over him he tried breathing softly in the hopes it would minimize damage, but that one left as well. Stiles whined in frustration, but then recalled that he was meant to be _silent_ and tried to be silent despite fingers that wanted to tap. His bottom was hot and damp and he just wanted to _get off!_

It felt like an hour in that timeless, soundless, alpha-scented room, but it was only the third alpha who leaned over him that garnered a response. Stiles' body was actively aroused at that point from the scent of different alphas nearby and he began to breathe faster. He was a bit worried he was headed for a panic attack and the alpha's presence only exacerbated things. There was an instinctive fear that the alpha would hurt him, taught by years of warnings about rape, but also the cloying _need_ to be touched by them. Over and again. Deep inside his body. The alpha leaned so close that their nose touched Stiles' cheek and the omega closed his eyes tightly. He didn't want to see the alpha hovering over him. He'd been given an age range for this meeting and a percentage just to give him an idea if he even wanted to attend this choosing, and most of them were well over a hundred. He didn't want to know if it was a wrinkly old alpha or one of the few younger ones looking for their first mate. He just wanted it to be over with.

The alpha signaled their acceptance of Stiles by grasping the fabric covering his body and sliding it up his hips to expose his privates, leaving his face and torso covered like they were supposed to. Stiles shifted quickly to spread his legs in offering. They were both here for a reason and Stiles wasn't playing around. Stiles kept his eyes tightly closed as the alpha mounted him and began to work a finger into his hole, their breath harsh and needy. No foreplay for Stiles. No expectations on his end, either. This was for breeding.

The alpha used Stiles' natural lubricant to work him open quickly, two fingers quickly pressed inside despite Stiles' hiss of discomfort. The alpha was breathing hard, hot breath puffing on Stiles' knee as they rested their jaw there while they spread both fingers. Stiles heard someone nearby let out a sharp cry of pain and flinched, but the sound didn't repeat and the eerie temple room hid the softer sounds even from werewolf ears. Stiles' alpha had stilled when he'd tensed up, but once Stiles forced himself to relax again they continued. His heat scent would be driving him wild, so just that pause was impressive restraint. Definitely an older alpha. One used to breeding omegas on the regular. The benefit was experience, the downside was that Stiles was probably not going to be visually attracted to them. If the alpha kept him, he'd be stuck with an old man or woman for the rest of his life and probably be the second or even third spouse which meant dealing with more favored mates. He might get treated like a pretty bauble, or he might be the one they beat to express their frustrations.

Once the alpha had gotten three fingers into him they pressed up to the last knuckle and held it there a moment while Stiles' body twitched around the intrusion. When they pulled their digits free Stiles let out a slow breath in relief and loosened the grip he had on the table. Bad move. The alpha practically threw themselves over him with a hungry growl and Stiles' body jerked upwards as they tried to press into him frantically. He nearly slid off the top, but the alpha dragged him back with a hungry growl. Every hot breath on Stiles' neck felt like the prelude to the claiming bite he might receive should the alpha be pleased with him. _Truly_ pleased. Stiles' body wanted the claiming bite, but Stiles' mind wasn't into marrying a complete stranger.

The alpha's cock prodded Stiles' thigh and then began to press into him. Apparently they were so hungry for Stiles they'd completely lost control of their senses as they panted and partially thrust into him without finesse. Stiles shared that sentimentality. Desire was burning through him like a fire. His hips were twitching up, clawing at the alpha's ass to bring him in _deeper, deeper, now,_ his eyes tightly closed as he pictured the sexiest figures he could. He needed to smell like lust personified to keep the alpha's interest, but it wasn't overly difficult with the spicy scent of an alpha inches from his face. He wanted to _bite_! He wanted to sink his teeth into the alpha and demand the same in return. He wanted to keep and be kept, and the result was hungry growls and a thrashing bodies. It made actually being mounted more difficult, but eventually they both met in the middle and the alpha sank fully into his body. Stiles let out a cry of pain and want and tried to grapple with the alpha above him but their instincts were at war and they quickly pinned Stiles' arms above his head.

The fabric was moving up his body with their movements, and Stiles arched his neck as the alpha pulled out and buried themselves in to the hilt once more. He had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't going for _bound_ he was going for _pregnant_. Except everything about this alpha sparked _so much joy_. The shaft that filled him was thick and hard, just the way Stiles liked his toys, and was grazing his sweet spot in a slow build. He smelled like delicious spiced pie, home cooked meals, and that delicious alpha _eau de parfum_ that made his mouth water. Once that knot tied him he'd be creaming his brains out, and the sweaty stomach rubbing his cock was helping that along.

Quiet had become impossible. Stiles was moaning and crying out with each thrust into his body. His fingers were entwined with the alpha's, whose position against his upper torso now identified him as male bodied. He didn't have to picture anything sexy anymore, because pleasure was lighting up the synapses in his brain and turning it into mush. All he wanted was that knot and he wasn't above shouting for it.

“Please! Please!” Stiles cried out, hips meeting every thrust, “Oh, fuck, I need it, I need it, I need-”

Stiles' pleading was cut off by the alpha burying himself deep inside Stiles' body and going still instead of continuing the teasing thrusts that had excited Stiles until that point. Stiles' breath was knocked out of him, and then sucked in and held in anticipation, his eyes flying open as he waited for something he'd only dreamed of. Toys couldn't mimic _this._

The alpha let out a ragged cry against his neck, hungry for release, and his knot began to swell and fill Stiles' body completely as he grasped Stiles' hips tight enough to bruise. It hurt _so good_ , the tightness cramping a moment before blinding pleasure left him gasping and then letting out a drawn out cry as he came across the torso of the alpha who was pumping him full of his seed. The alpha was moaning low and deep, his mouth right against the mating gland that would bond them together. Stiles didn't have his breath back yet, but it didn't stop him from nudging up against the alpha's mouth instinctively even though that wasn't what he truly wanted. The gauzy sheet was meant to discourage instant bonding in their modern world, letting the alpha and omega get to know each other first, but it was perfectly acceptable to claim him _right then and there_.

The alpha's breath shuddered out of him and he went limp across Stiles, heavy and fulfilling. Like most omegas he'd always craved a firm weight over his body. He'd slept with a 20 Ib weighted blanket since adolescence that he'd had to buy used due to the cost. This surpassed it. The alpha kept him firmly in place without making his feet uncomfortable. He felt safe and cozy, almost high off of the sensation of pleasure and security. He was warm and firm and draped across him in comforting perfection. The only thing missing was the _reason_ for pinning an omega down so fully after mating; holding them still for the bite.

The alpha pulled down the sheet on Stiles now that they were tied together, using it to wrap his shoulders and keep him warm. The move was tender and made him shiver in a good way. However, now he was mouthing at Stiles' bare neck so with what little restraint Stiles' sex addled brain contained he pulled away from his mouth in the hopes of discouraging a bite. There was a pause, but the alpha moved on to kissing his shoulder instead. Safe. For now. He was still drunk on his own prolonged orgasm so there was no talking, only soft pants and moans.

Stiles spent several breaths reminding himself that he did _not_ want to be bound to the unknown and heretofore unseen alpha on top of him. He wanted a cub. A cub meant that the alpha on top of him would have to pay him a womb fee for using him to get an heir and Stiles would get to go home to his injured dad with _money._ He'd also have the right to work in place, as bred omegas smelled less tasty and didn't have that instant lust reaction to the smell of _any_ alpha who walked by. Bonding meant he stayed without pay with the damn alpha for no less than three years, or longer if he couldn't produce two cubs in that time span, until they decided to either stay permanently or divorce with a chemical treatment to remove the claim. If either decided to end things he'd be sent home without pay with visitation of his cubs if he was lucky. While he was with the alpha he would essentially be his servant, and if he chose to mistreat him Stiles had little say in the matter. There were no laws protecting an omegas body from alphas but instinct usually stopped abuse from getting severe, especially while pregnant. That wasn't to say it didn't happen, and Stiles' father had seen the worst.

It was a shit situation, but it was a hair better than it had been two hundred years ago. Back then omegas were pulled from their homes by masked, hooded figures and taken to alphas to be bred in groups. When the alpha was done with them they'd either return those who weren't with pup home- sullied and unmatable- or add those carrying their cubs to their loveless harem with no hope of divorce. Now omegas were welcome to show up after 18 years old in the hopes of gaining favor with the wealthy alpha class. Instead of collecting a harem, alphas were allowed to chose one omega from the volunteers at a time. If they wanted a second mate they had to wait until their first Temple omega was past breeding age, which was at least a century, or divorce the one in their care and wait at least ten years so that younger alphas had time to claim omegas. Dating was also an option, but was still frowned upon as a weak; Alphas often didn't feel the need to _impress_ dumb omegas. The new options kept the population healthy and diverse without denying alphas their fuck toys and accessible wombs.

Alphas were the least common gender among their kind. They were also the most intelligent, strongest, fastest, and most virile. Supposedly. Betas made up the highest percentage of the population and could technically mate with anyone but only produced betas with an alpha, or betas and omegas with an omega. Anyone could give birth to a beta, even alpha/omega pairings, but they were less likely to. Only alphas and omegas could give birth to more alphas, so for the benefit of the species and the super-werewolves that alphas were, omegas _must_ reproduce with alphas as often as possible. The ideal in modern society was for every omega to give an alpha an heir and a spare, which was a step up from the barbaric practice of keeping them as sex slaves. Instead, they were firmly encouraged, shamed, and bullied into giving themselves over to a Temple or alpha _at least once_ in their lives. I they didn't let an alpha breed them at least once they weren't allowed to marry a beta or work, which didn't stop some omegas from refusing but made survival difficult. It was breed with an alpha or live out your life with your parents or as a ward of the state. Due to these laws most omegas just showed up at a Temple to offer themselves up to an alpha since that was the easiest route through life. An alpha cub would be given an additional large government stipend, which an omega could live off of should they have to.

If the alpha were abusive... well... nobody really cared about omegas. They had no idea if they were as smart or fast as alphas because they were always pregnant. It was well known they weren't as strong, but strength was only a part of power and not its whole. Certainly omegas were fertile. It was their redeeming feature in the eyes of society, along with their ability to bear alphas. Omegas went into heat once a year, but they could get pregnant at any point in time. Heat was meant to lure in an alpha and keep them. They were baby factories, suffering few ill effects of a pregnancy and almost _never_ birthing ill or stillborn babies. Genetically they were nearly perfection, always healthy and unable to pass on the illness that had killed Stiles' omega mother. Just her having gotten cancer was rare beyond belief, since omegas were so healthy. The doctor believed an exposure to chemicals in her job was to blame.

So Stiles was in this for the stipend, gambling on being sent home with a bun in the oven and a pile of cash to get his annoying self away from the alpha who had mounted him. His dad had been in a terrible state after being shot on the job and retired early, leaving Stiles desperate as an Omega that didn't have the option to work without having been pregnant. All he had to do was be annoying enough to get sent home the second he was pregnant, but not annoying enough to get beaten for being mouthy. Of course, if he had to tough it out for three years and beatings _did_ happen maybe he'd be able to sue, but chances were slim as hell. Rights were advancing but omegas were still viewed as property, and property almost never won a lawsuit. The only way they had an issue with abuse if was if it endangered a _precious_ cub.

Stiles knew he wasn't a prize, so being kept wasn't much of a concern for him. Jackson Whitmore had reminded him of that every damn day of his life until he'd presented and got to home school, and then the fucker had joined Scott's pack- and therefore Stiles'- through Allison. Allison might have gone after a time, but Jackson had stayed and Stiles was just glad that there was a system of mutual avoidance.

Stiles had a pretty slim chance of getting a mate he could tolerate in this mostly geriatric crowd. The chances were the alpha who had just taken his virginity and blown his fucking mind was a hundred plus years old, and from the generation that thought he should be barefoot and pregnant for life just like their first mate had been. If he got kept it would be a miserable existence, which was why he was relying on his naturally obnoxious personality to chase the guy off. That and the fact he'd stopped his meds a week ago.

Despite his anxiety, or perhaps because of it, Stiles fell asleep and didn't wake up until the alpha's knot had gone down and he was finally able to slip out of Stiles and rise up on his hands and knees. The alpha pulled the sheet off completely and Stiles clenched his eyes shut in negation. He didn't want to see. He didn't want the perfect fantasy of his first time with an alpha to be _ruined_ by an ugly old man and every regret and fear was suddenly weighing down on him. He wanted to be able to just teleport straight home. He wanted his pack alpha. He wanted Scott to play games and tell him he was awesome. He wanted his dad. He wanted his dad's _hugs._ Eighteen very suddenly didn't feel like an adult. He felt like a kid impersonating an adult and he was _afraid_ and cold.

“Hey,” The Alpha grunted, “What's wrong with your eyes?”

The alpha stroked his cheek with two fingers and an idea came to Stiles' unmedicated brain and out his mouth before he could stop it, “I'm blind. Accident as a teenager. Sorry you got someone deficient.”

The alpha growled out, “Shut up.”

Stiles felt a surge of hope. A month. He had to make it a month. Two tops if the pregnancy didn't take immediately. Then he'd take a pregnancy test and head home with a bun in the oven and a fat paycheck. The alpha climbed off of him and helped him rise, keeping a careful hand on his shoulder while the other grasped his hand. The alpha was _leading him,_ and he was doing it carefully. Definitely the older guy range who felt the need to keep their hands on their omegas constantly. Or, you know, polite.

“Oh, wow, um... thank you,” Stiles stammered, surprised by his kindness. He seemed gentle and that gave Stiles a bit of hope.

“Where's your cane so we can get out of here faster than a tired snail?” He growled out, voice irritated and scathing.

“Or not.”


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles was still exhausted. Exhausted and _sticky_. He was dripping come and lube everywhere, but alpha instinct meant no showers outside of their territory. He had to smell like he was owned, even if temporarily. Derek had a packmate with him who smelled like copper and said Stiles was gorgeous, making him blush all the way to the floor. He also let slip Derek's name, because the alpha hadn't bothered with introductions. So Stiles was dressed by Derek while he loudly complained about the loss of Stiles' cane. The attendants weren't eager to contradict Stiles in front of an aggressive alpha protecting his possible mate, so they didn't say a word while Derek asked them to check multiple times. If he'd had his eyes open they'd probably be refusing to even make eye contact with Stiles. Luckily the omega was an amazing liar. His heart never wavered when he fibbed, so the attendants were probably questioning their own memories by the time they left.

Finally the alpha led him out of the building and out to a car, a firm grip on his arm the whole time and the occasional grumbled warning to anyone nearby. Stiles was helped into the car with a hand over his head like a criminal and laughingly quipped at the irony.

“My dad's a sheriff,” He told him, letting his natural annoying traits shine as he began to babble about his father and his injury.

“The guy came out of the _basement_. Seriously. What kind of a grocery store has a basement? He comes flying up and shoots wildly everywhere. One of the hostages got killed- my dad's still choked up about that but we can't afford therapy- and my dad was shot in the side. It took out his liver. For a drinker, that is some _serious_ shit. I'm worried about him being alone. He's basically healed up, but the healing? Seriously harsh. Then he got hurt again at home when he fell down the stairs. He broke a rib and fractured his leg, and since it was no longer a work injury we weren't covered. We drained the savings trying to survive and the retirement just isn't enough to pay all the bills and have much left over, if anything. We ended up unable to afford his pain meds. I was going to sell something, but he told me not to. He said to save it for a real emergency, something we couldn't do without. I had to help him to and from the bathroom and wipe his ass for him and-”

“So he can see, then,” Derek interrupted.

“Uh, yeah, blindness isn't genetic for omegas,and my mom was an omega, too,” Stiles replied carefully, smile dropping. It was still hard to keep the lie going, but he knew from experience that he should keep as close to the truth as possible so he combined his mother's history with his own, “She used her womb fee to finance her life and married the beta who I call dad. My blindness was a chemical spill accident at school before I emerged.”

“So you come from a long line of Fee Finders, then,” Derek grumbled, still not noticing the lies.

“She had her reasons, and I have mine,” Stiles snapped, letting his anger get the best of him, “She loved my dad, but she wouldn't have been allowed to marry and live with him without having a cub with an alpha first. She knew my dad was poor so she tried to make sure we were okay, and I need to do the same. She's already gone and my dad needs to be cared for in his silver years. I have to have an alpha's cub to live my life too, and I want my child to be financially okay. The government doesn't pay _omegas_ for being born like they do _alphas_.”

“It's shit,” Derek stated.

“No, it's the god damn truth!”

“I meant the social situation,” Derek stated, “It's bullshit. Nobody should be denied a right to work and live.”

“Oh...” Stiles stammered, “Yeah, it is bullshit.”

They fell into an awkward silence and Stiles wished _agonizingly_ for a damn book to keep himself occupied. However, with him pretending to be _blind_ he'd have to forgo reading until Derek sent him home. There went his classic Beauty and the Beast story line with an introduction to the rich man's library!

“Don't worry,” Derek's voice had gone deep and threatening, “I'll make sure you leave here with your finder fee furball if it's the _last_ thing I do.”

Stiles swallowed hard and Derek gave Stiles' leg a firm rub over his knee and up his thigh where his fingers slid between them to tease his balls. Stiles hissed and shifted in surprise, eyelids fluttering before he could get them under control. His eyes had to stay _shut_. He wouldn't be able to stop them from focusing on something if they were open so he wouldn't be able to keep his ruse going.

“Oh my god, how can I be turned on already?” Stiles panted.

Derek didn't respond. He just took his hands away and Stiles instantly wanted them back. Stiles took a few breaths, reminding himself that in all likelihood this was an old ass man sitting beside him with a strange beta nearby. At least he was playing along. Stiles' future with a baby and money was virtually assured. He was more than a bit scared about raising a baby, but he had no other choice if he were to save his childhood home and have a future.

Of course, that was when his luck would run out and his phone began to ring. Normally he would hurry to answer his father's ring tone and reassure him, but he was sitting next to a werewolf which meant he'd hear every word and his father might give things away.

“Aren't you going to answer that?”

“It's not for me,” Stiles replied.

  
“It's definitely coming from your pocket.”

“My phone announces the name of the caller out loud,” Stiles frowned, “If no name is spoken it's someone I don't know, and I don't answer strange calls.”

“Makes sense.”

Except the phone kept ringing and ringing and Derek was getting irritated.

“Give it to me,” Derek stated, reaching for his pocket.

“Whoa! As much as I like you groping my ass, that's my personal property!”

Stiles fumbled the phone and managed to answer it, and of course it was his dad, but he tried to play it off anyway.

“Wrong number, sorry. Stop calling,” Stiles hung up again.

It rang again and Derek and Stiles both sighed. Stiles was tempted to turn it off, but he also needed to calm his dad down and was feeling guilty about disappearing on him.

“Hello?” Stiles tried.

“Stiles, what the hell?”

“Dad? That's weird, your number isn't coming up like it usually does. Are you calling from a different phone?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“I dunno, thought it was weird.”

“Well, get your phone checked or something,” His father snapped, “Where are you?”

“I'm,” Stiles floundered and hoped Derek didn't speak up, “At Scott's. Remember? Helping him with his project. Gonna be there a month. Saves you on food bills! You said it was cool.”

“No you're not, because _I_ am at Scott's and you are not _here._ ”

Stiles sighed, “We both know where I am, Dad.”

“Yeah, we do,” His father sounded pained, “Because if you aren't at Scott's than you're where I specifically told you _not to be.”_

“I'm 18, dad.”

“You don't have to do this. I'll figure things out. Parish was going to help me get a desk job at the station. I just have to learn computers.”

“I'm still shocked you can use your phone, dad,” Stiles deadpanned.

“Come home,” His father pleaded, “You're worth more than this, Stiles. Don't do this. You're not a... an _ass_ to breed!”

Derek shifted, putting an arm around Stiles as his instincts were distressed by Stiles' father's words to leave the alpha while they were still in the midst of rut.

“Too late,” Stiles replied softly, “I'll see you in a month or two. Congrats, future grandpa.”

Stiles hung up the phone and let out a long, slow sigh. When he had a moment of privacy he'd fix his phone and put it on audible settings so he could get away with calls, but for now he shut off his phone so he could effectively hide from both his father and his lies.


	3. Chapter 3

From the limo to a _plane_ and Stiles didn't have any trouble keeping his eyes shut here because he'd never flown before and was busy trying not to throw up. He shut his eyes tight and clung to Derek's arm in misery. Derek had booked a private jet to take them home, so it was just them, his packmate/servant, and the flight crew. Stiles was sick to his stomach and the whole tiny ass plane felt like it was shaking apart. When they finally disembarked he actually wished he _could_ throw up, because it turned out Derek had a sense of humor.

“So,” He asked, tone amused, “Did you like the flight?”

“I hope you die a slow, agonizing death by wolfsbane poisoning,” Stiles groaned.

Derek chuckled, guiding him through the airport with all its unfamiliar smells, and down to yet another car. Stiles was exhausted. He just wanted to curl up and _sleep_. The second limo ride couldn't have ended sooner. Finally he was led into a building that smelled like the embodiment of the word clean, into an elevator, and into a final room.

“Isaac, find something to use as a cane for him,” Derek stated.

“On it,” The servant that had escorted them spoke up.

“Erica, take his bag to my room,” Derek spoke to someone who had moved so silently she made Stiles jump.

“He's cute,” Erica's voice _sounded_ like a smirk.

“Where's Boyd?” Derek asked.

“Here,” A deep voice spoke up from _above them._ Stiles was suddenly very intimidated about learning this space with his eyes shut and gripped Derek's arm tighter.

“Everything is ready?” Derek asked sharply.

“Yes,” Boyd stated flatly.

Stiles was glad for the unofficial introduction. He could now distinguish their scents and apply names to them. Erica smelled like cinnamon, Isaac like copper, and Boyd like old spice. Boyd wasn't an alpha, so it wasn't quite as intense as Derek's scent. Stiles assumed beta, but his scent was also heavily layered with an alpha Stiles didn't know and it made things confusing.

“Wonderful,” Derek stated, leading Stiles through what had to be a huge room based on airflow and echo, “We'll be in our rooms if you need anything.”

“No mile high club for them,” Isaac laughed, “He was soooo nauseous!”

“He can hear you,” Stiles grumbled.

“How's your stomach?” Derek asked, leading him around something, opening a door, and leading him through. Stiles had no idea where he or anything around him was and it was incredibly disorienting.

“Better, I guess,” Stiles replied, “I'm exhausted, though.”

Derek led Stiles to a bed and he gratefully sat down, nearly sliding down it when he missed it with his ass in his self-imposed darkness. He straightened up and Derek sat beside him, leaning in close and making Stiles both tingly and annoyed. He really did just want to fucking _sleep_.

“I'm sure,” Derek replied, “And you were so tense on that flight.”

Stiles' breath caught in his throat as Derek shifted behind him and began to rub his shoulders with firm and skilled hands. Stiles moaned and leaned into his touch with a heavy sigh of relief.

“Oh, wow, that's awesome.”

“Mhm,” Derek acknowledged, “Why don't you lie down for a bit and once your stomach has settled come out for dinner? Boyd will keep it warm for you.”

“Three servants, huh? You must have a big family. Your first omega give you lots of cubs? Uh... I'm not going to meet them, am I? That would be weird.”

Derek snorted and stood up, “They're my pack more than servants, and they don't all live here. Just Isaac.”

“Efficient,” Stiles nodded, but noticed that he avoided talk of other mates and cubs. Perhaps his first mate was annoying to him and he'd sent them away and kept the cubs, or perhaps they'd passed away.

Stiles climbed to the head of the bed to lie down, managing to crack his head on the headboard.

“Owwww,” Stiles groaned.

“How are you ever allowed out of your house?” Derek snorted, shutting the door behind him.

Stiles stewed in that for a moment, angry at the reminder that most alphas thought he should be housebound and kept pregnant for life. He hoped the alpha didn't change his mind, but a clearly deficient omega that would struggle to care for the household and cubs was a damn good way to create disinterest. It was also ableist as fuck, but alphas were known for their privileged bias and Stiles was fine with taking advantage of it and them.

Stiles conked out the moment his head hit the pillow, but it felt like a mere second before a heavy weight settled on his body and a mouth began working at his neck. Teeth and rough stubble stimulated him and Stiles arched back against the alpha behind him. His scent was everywhere, already permeating the bed and now the real deal was hungrily sliding his hands under Stiles' shirt.

“You smell so good,” Derek growled, grinding his clothed erection against Stiles' ass.

“S'good,” Stiles slurred, “Can I sleep?”

“I need you,” Derek's voice sounded wrecked, frantic with need, “It's been too long.”

“I sleep now,” Stiles insisted as Derek pulled his pants down.

“Was that a no?” Derek paused suddenly

That wouldn't do: “S' a yes. I sleep. You fuck.”

“I'll take it,” Derek agreed amicably.

He got Stiles' bottoms off and followed it with his own, leaning over him to mouth at his neck again right over the area Stiles' instincts were begging to be bitten on. A mating bond was _not on_ , and Stiles had to keep telling himself that despite the fact that he was outwardly mewling and arching into Derek's blunt-toothed bites. He was making Stiles ache for it in more ways than one as his fingers teased his hole. Stiles' dick was more awake than the rest of him, sporting a healthy morning wood, and the soft blankets were teasing his aching shaft as Derek opened him up only using Stiles' own lubrication.

“So wet for me,” Derek growled, “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? Has anyone told you?”

“N-no?” Stiles tried, confused at that comment.

Derek let out a low, vibrating growl, his fingers scissoring as he opened Stiles wide for his length. Stiles gasped and lost track of the conversation when Derek's fingers grazed his prostate teasingly. He wanted that knot. Now.

“You've got these moles... beauty marks...” Derek growled, “A pattern all over your body in random places. I want to chase them like a trail all the way to your cock and suck your dick until you pass out.”

“Ah, oh, um, I'm game,” Stiles tried as Derek lined his length up.

“You want that?” Derek asked.

“Uh huh,” Stiles whimpered as Derek sank into him slowly.

“Then don't come until I'm finished.”

“Wha-?!”

Derek pulled out a bit to wet his cock then bottomed out, sinking into Stiles with a throaty groan. He laid his weight over him, pinning Stiles to the bed and beginning to rock slowly with soft sounds of contentment. Stiles' arms were above his head and to his side, his cock trapped beneath him. Derek's thrusts were long and slow, his motions not meant to rush things the way they had during their initial mating despite the more savage position.

“Oh, yeah,” Derek breathed slowly, “That's it, sexy.”

Derek felt so good inside of him, as cliché as that sounded even to Stiles' tired mind. Stiles' cheeks were close enough together in this position to feel every vein and ridge as Derek moved, leaving just the head inside so as not to tug Stiles' untried body too much. Stiles found himself letting out moans so soft as to be a steady hum with punctuated groans as Derek's head teased his prostate. Stiles was steadily leaking onto the bed, his cock aching for release but the omega himself too tired to act to relieve himself even had he been free to move more.

“Getting close,” Derek panted against his neck, nipping his ear and making Stiles jump.

“Mm, yeah, breed me,” Stiles sighed, still tired and lazy from the long flight.

“Fuck!” Derek barked out, stilling inside of him.

His knot swelled but Derek kept it outside of Stiles' entrance and reached down to squeeze it with his hand instead. Stiles was confused for a moment until he recalled Derek's promise. He was forgoing a chance to knot inside of Stiles in order to pleasure him afterwards. Given omega biology, chances were that he was already pregnant, but Stiles' life depended on him getting there and he was a bit irritated that Derek hadn't secured their mating by keeping his seed inside.

Stiles was about to tell him off when Derek slid free, pulling a gasp of discomfort from him as the head roughed up his heat-plump hole a bit. Before he could respond Derek had rolled him over, pushed his legs apart, and knelt between them. Stiles forgot his irritation as he realized what was about to happen. He was only at half chub, but as Derek kissed along the moles on Stiles' cheek and down his neck he began to harden fast. Derek headed south, licking and nipping in places that made Stiles gasp and jump, his body arching in longing as his arousal turned from a smolder to a roaring inferno. His hips felt like fire licking a path to his cock. His ankles were unexpected erogenous zones that made him kick and cry out. Back up the other leg where he teased behind his knees, making Stiles shiver and whimper in bliss. Finally he reached his goal and Derek mouthed at his cockhead and Stiles gasped and writhed beneath him.

Stiles wanted to look. He wanted to open his eyes and watch his erection slide in and out of Derek's skilled- for it truly was- mouth. He wanted to watch his cheeks hollow and his lips turn red from friction. This was his first blowjob, might even be his last if he was heading home with a baby and job potential. He _wanted_ to, but he didn't want to ruin the fantasy of a sexy alpha sucking him off with the reality of some old guy who had a hundred years or more of experience sucking cock.

Stiles moaned and tossed his head, gripping the pillow above him as the hot cavern of Derek's slick mouth stimulated his every nerve ending. He went from half-hard to the edge of orgasm with only a dozen hungry pulls.

“Oh, fuck, that's so...” Stiles gasped, reaching down and carding his fingers through Derek's hair as his hips started to jerk up out of his control, “Oh gods, Derek!”

Stiles' pleasure pulsed through him, clenching every muscle in his body and releasing it along with Stiles' pleasure. He filled Derek's mouth and was surprised to feel him swallowing his leavings. Stiles lay there, panting and limp with exhaustion. His ass was leaking onto the bed but he could not care less. He was too spent. He started to drift off again before Derek had even straightened up to lean over him again.

“Hey. Uh... omega guy.”

“Oh my god, you failwolf, you don't even know my _name,”_ Stiles groaned, rubbing at his eyes and stretching.

“You could try telling it to me,” He pointed out gruffly.

“To be fair, you never told me yours either. Your servant or pack or whatever mentioned it while talking to you. I'm Stiles.”

“Okay, an alias will do.”

“No, it's mah name,” Stiles groaned, stretching and smacking his knuckles on the headboard, “Ow. Your headboard is annoyingly painful.”

“You're ridiculous,” Derek chuckled, “Come on. Dinner.”

“Nooooo. Sleeeep.”

“You've been out for two hours. You need to eat something. You might be eating for two.”

“Technically,” Stiles clamored out of bed and promptly fell on the floor, “That doesn't start for a couple of months. Kid's still flying solo at the moment.”

“You're going to need to be bubble wrapped,” Derek huffed.

“That's ableist!” Stiles scolded.

Derek chortled again, but didn't apologize, “First a shower, and then dinner. No arguing. And here's something to help you down the hall.”

Derek grabbed Stiles' hand (“Rude!”) and put a thin, plastic stick in it. Stiles held it and wandered his hand up and down it curiously. It had grooves and a plastic loop at one end that was too small to be of much use. Stiles wondered if he'd gone out and got a proper cane for him but didn't want to let on that he knew fuck all about walking with one.

“Thank you!” Stiles exclaimed.

“It's just a stick from some blinds,” Derek stated, “Luckily we have really big windows here so it's pretty long. We'll get you a proper cane eventually, but I'd rather you picked it out yourself and for now my instincts aren't okay with taking you into a crowded store.”

“Yeah, you're gonna be pretty protective for a month, right?”

“Or two, yes. After that the fog should clear and we'll be able to make a decision about our... future.”

With that worrisome statement Derek dragged Stiles to the shower, washed him while Stiles drifted off against the wall, dried him off, and then left so Stiles could get dressed, telling him his suitcase was at the foot of the bed.

Stiles took the time to actually _open his eyes._ The room was decorated in red, black, and white. It was surprisingly modern, but that fit a guy having a mid-life crisis at 150 to 200 years old. He probably redecorated right before heading to the mating event miles away from his home so he wouldn't run into any of his bastards while courting young omegas. The walls were devoid of art but the bed had- and this made Stiles glad he'd kept his eyes shut- a fucking _mirror_ above it. Super creepy old guy move. Stiles poked around in the closet and it was filled with suits, a few soft sweaters, and a casual section with absolutely zero personality. Grey sweat pants and black or white t-shirts. It was like someone else did his shopping who didn't know him well at all. _Generic_. Stiles wouldn't be shocked if this were a crash pad and the guy had his first omega mate(s?) somewhere else with his personal stuff and cubs. It fit the very neutral smell of the whole place, like it was _too_ clean. Not lived in. Stiles was in the second home, no doubt.

Stiles checked out the attached bathroom he'd just showered in and _holy shit_ he almost wished he could keep the guy. The bathroom was amazing. A huge glass shower stood to the right and beyond it in the corner was a Jacuzzi _tub_ big enough for two! It was all white and silver and fucking gorgeous. Stiles glanced out the window in the far wall and gaped. He'd never been so high up! _It was a skyrise!_

Stiles left the bathroom and made a bee-line for the curtained off double doors that he hadn't bothered with prior. It was a balcony and he figured a blind person in a strange place wouldn't go out on one alone, even for fresh air, but now that he knew he was a million stories up he couldn't resist. He glanced back at the main door, noted he couldn't really hear outside the thick doors unless he strained, and cautiously, quietly, opened the balcony doors and slipped out.

It was _COLD._ Stiles gasped and put his arms around himself and shivered. It had been a bit cool when they'd arrived, but now that the sun had set it was fucking freezing. Stiles shivered and stared around himself curiously. He gaped when he recognized a building. The empire state building. He was in _New York!_

“We're a long way from home, Toto,” Stiles whispered.

Stiles knew he couldn't risk staying alone for so long without someone checking on him, so he left the balcony, picked up his blind rod, and practiced holding it convincingly for a moment. He closed his eyes and headed for the door, sweeping it back and forth to find his way.

It was an absolute catastrophe. He couldn't know if someone was about to peer out at him from somewhere so he kept his eyes shut after opening the door. Unfortunately just outside the door were two small tables with decorative glass whatever-the-fucks on them. Stiles knocked over the first one as he slipped out the door, reeled away from it, and took out the second. Then he staggered away from the mess and towards the sound of alarmed shouting right into a piece of thankfully soft furniture and flipped over it and onto a couch.

“Wow, that was pathetic,” Boyd stated decisively.

“What that was, was _unacceptable,”_ Derek stated angrily as he helped Stiles rise with a lot of pulling of both arms.

“I'm sorry about the probably priceless treasures,” Stiles stammered, feeling fear curl in his gut. Would it come out of his money at the end?

“Boyd, take care of that shit!” Derek ordered.

“Pretty sure he handled that already,” Isaac chortled.

“It isn't _funny,”_ Derek snapped, “He's got a disability! You've been bullied half your life, you're really going to laugh at him?”

“S-sorry,” Isaac stammered, and beat a hasty retreat up a flight of stairs. How big was this place?

“Was the makeshift cane too long?” Derek asked, putting it back in Stiles' hands.

“I- uh-” Stiles stammered, “I usually know my surroundings. It's really only good for, like, outside and stuff. Otherwise I'm probably going to hit stuff with the cane, too. I'm just so used to my own house, you know?”

“Can you hold it higher, or-”

“I think it would be best if you or your- uh- pack just helped me around until I go home,” Stiles suggested miserably, not willing to spend the whole time in a corner.

The room was filled with shuffling and creaking furniture, and keeping his eyes closed was making Stiles paranoid and anxious. His heart kept pounding and he wanted to throw the whole thing out.

“Boyd's getting the stuff out of your way,” Derek told him, “We'll move furniture to the walls and rearrange the place so it's safer. I can't let them touch you with our mating unbonded, but they can help in other ways. Boyd! Put it in the cub's... in the spare room. Anything that will be in his way!”

“Got it!”

Stiles could hear Boyd moving furniture while Isaac joined him and the sound of glass being scooped and deposited into bins filled the air, probably cleaned by Erica since she was the only one he hadn't located. It sounded, based on the lack of muffled movements throughout most of the building, like a fairly open floor plan. They went about their business while Stiles was helped into his chair, had it pushed in, and a plate was put before him. To his discomfort Derek joined him, pushing in the chair and sitting caddy corner to him while he began to eat. Stiles fumbled for the cutlery, painfully aware that he was supposed to know how to _feed himself_ without seeing, but not sure how to do that. Stiles tapped at the plate gently with his fork to figure out where shit was and when he located something thick enough to be meat he figured he'd better start with the sides so he didn't rub his meat into it.

Stiles was painfully aware that if he could hear the others clearly they could see him, so chances were he was basically on full display and about to make an idiot of himself. He found mashed something easily enough and scooped it into his mouth carefully so that he didn't drop it onto his shirt. He got the first bite in and was glad it was... something or other delicious. Mashed potatoes? Sweet potatoes? Something with spices he'd never tasted before that were somehow both sweet and spicy. It was wonderful and he devoured it quickly, moaning over the flavor. Next was a search around to find the obligatory vegetables. He hoped they were string beans, but of course they were asparagus and he gagged before forcing himself to finish what was in his mouth. He moved quickly on to the meat.

Steak.

YAAAAS!

“Wow, this is amazing,” Stiles groaned, “I haven't had steak in _years_. Holy shit, your cook needs a raise. You should, like, marry them after you send me home. Put a ring on it. Seriously.”

Derek chuckled, “Highly illegal considering it's my sister.”

“Oh. Ew.”  
  


“I'll tell her you like her food. She was hoping to meet you over dinner, but I basically kicked her out so she insisted on cooking to make a good impression on you. Instincts because she's an alpha and you aren't claimed. I guess she thought I'd just bite the first omega I mounted. She'll pop in if I decide to keep you.”

“Which... which you won't,” Stiles reminded him, “Because I'm a gold digging whore with no morals or vision, and the whole annoying thing.”

Derek shifted in his chair, “I'm really sorry that you've been taught that you're not worthy of love because of your lack of vision, but I just don't feel that way and your repeated statements are highly offensive.”

“I... what?”

“So you can't see? Big deal. I can't imagine how hard that is, but it isn't the end of the world. People like you get educations in fields they _can_ work in and do well.”

“Yeah, people with access to- Ugh. Okay, fine, but what about the rest?”

“You being an annoying, gold digging, amoral whore?”

Stiles pointed in his general direction, “That's the one.”

“I don't know you well enough to make a call on that one,” Derek stated.

Stiles nodded while frowning, “Even the annoying part?”

“Okay, I don't know you well enough to make a call on the rest _besides_ annoying.”

“That's fair.”

After dinner was bed, and this time Derek was tired enough to join him. Derek curled up behind him and held him tight. His chest felt firm and Stiles felt the first bit of wonder about what he looked like. Whatever his age he clearly kept himself fit and Stiles was already aware he was fucking amazing in bed and a fairly progressive guy. Maybe he wouldn't be repulsive and Stiles needed to just calm the fuck down about the age gap. They were both werewolves, the guy would be around for a long time. It was going to be hard to go back to being alone when he finally returned home. He'd be considered 'used'. Not unwanted like in centuries past, but definitely less sexy. Stiles wasn't exactly popular, so he didn't have any beta prospectives but that wasn't an impossible eventuallity for him. In between working his ass off. And caring for a child. And his dad. Alone.

Stiles' mother had, sadly, not been able to have more cubs after Stiles. She'd been mentally unwell after his birth and gone on birth control to avoid more distress, one of those few things that omegas could still get despite being genetically perfect. Everyone had assumed postpartum depression, but in time her true ailment had made itself known and her death had been slow and awful. His father's retirement just didn't cover their massive debts and Stiles couldn't stand to see his father lying in a bed, quietly weeping with pain from another injury or whatever ailments old age would bring him when medicine was out of their financial reach.

“Hey,” Derek's hand stroked Stiles' cheek gently, “I can _hear_ you thinking. Go to sleep.”

“I think I slept too much today,” Stiles sighed, but eventually let the comforting scent of alpha wash over him and lull him to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Stiles was awoken with soft kisses along his jaw and a warm body giving him a gentle squeeze. It devolved to more mindless, hot, frantic fucking after that and Stiles found out that being fucked while his arms were pulled back from behind was both painful and fucking hot as hell. Stiles wanted to drift off again after, because honestly Derek was making him _work_ for it, but the alpha gave him a gentle shake.

“Wake up,” Derek whispered into his ears, “Time for the tour.”

“Hm?”

“I'm going to walk you around so it's easier for you to find your way around solo.”

“Oh. That's... cool...”

Derek was in the room with him this time, so Stiles dressed awkwardly, fumbling with clothes and trying to figure out if they were right-side out by touching along the shoulder to find the seam. He at least managed to figure out which was which by the feel of the pattern on the front; a perk of being a collector of graphic T's and knowing them all intimately. Yoda's textured outline was pretty easy to locate and all his pants looked the same. The only downside was his flannel. Stiles pretended to figure it out by rubbing the tag and hoped for the best.

They dressed and Stiles was led out of the bedroom and into the main room of the house and Derek really did his best to show him around. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't comfortable with a lot of talking, so he held Stiles' wrist and guided him through the penthouse. The first floor was a huge open floor plan combining living room, dining room, and kitchen with a huge swath of space just for socializing. This raised open space contained a piano, huge glass windows which Stiles located by gliding his hands along the perimeter, and sliding doors that led onto another balcony. There had probably been decorations, but Derek had had Boyd remove them. The doors led to a larger balcony than the one Stiles had been on the day before, which Derek let him stand on for a few seconds so he knew how far the edge was from the door in case Stiles needed fresh air. He practically dragged him back inside, arms around him tightly as if he were a jump risk. Stiles silently vowed to find a way to sneak onto it with his eyes open before the end of his stay.

The door from the master bedroom opened into the main area in the sitting room with the sofa a few feet from the door, which he guided him around repeatedly like a game so Stiles wouldn't fall over it again. The stairs to the second story were along the huge windows, and Derek guided him carefully here because the steps were open at the bases, the rail thin metal cords held up by slim posts in the modern warehouse-chik look. There was a solid railing along the glass wall, but it was probably because otherwise the stairs would be too fucking terrifying to walk up! The sitting room had a huge area rug beneath it, but the rest was all glossed cement.

To the left of the bedroom entrance was the kitchen with the dining room past that. The kitchen had a big marble island that Stiles was going to smack his hips into constantly. The stove was on one end of the island in the middle of the kitchen space so Derek was understandably worried about burns.

The wall past the kitchen and dining room contained the entrances to the two spare rooms, which was a surprise to Stiles. He thought they would be upstairs. One room was Isaac's and the second was the spare room for guests which now contained all the breakables and excess furniture, including the piano stool and the stool for the master bathroom's fancy-ass sink and vanity. There was a second full bathroom that opened into Isaac's room and the kitchen, and Stiles decided he would use that one exactly _never_ because he didn't want to walk in on Isaac. From what Derek had let slip the spare room was supposed to be his future cub's rooms, so apparently if Stiles stayed he wouldn't be in the first omega's space... assuming there was one. Stiles was starting to doubt it. What he felt from him was more of a first-omega vibe. Stiles thought he might have been too busy amassing his fortune until now.

Up the scary staircase near along the gigantic glass wall of sheer terror was the mezzanine area that formed the L-shaped ceiling for the three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The extended walkway around the area had Derek worried as it was only cordoned off with a three long bands of braided steel; some sort of modern industrial design that was dangerous as hell for kids and clumsy people like Stiles who were pretending to be blind.

“Wow, this is really not a safe place for kids,” Stiles discouraged, shaking his head and tutting, “Or blind guys. If you _do_ keep me you'll have to me-proof even before you baby-proof!”

“Still assuming you aren't worth it?” Derek's voice was deep and gravely, his breath hot on Stiles' neck, “I'll have to work on that.”

It felt like flirting. It felt like _real interest_ , and Stiles was both excited by it and scared. He wasn't supposed to get attached. He wasn't supposed to want to stay, but this luxury was alluring and the man tugging him along smelled like every sexual urge he'd ever had. Stiles' head was all twisted about and he stammered uselessly as Derek continued the tour.

Derek walked him all along the perimeter to get the feel for where the dangerous 'railing' was, and then introduced him to the space beyond that. It was conveniently separated by thick carpet vs the industrial-chic cement of the mezzanine and most of the floor below. Here was a more private version of the social space downstairs, what Derek described as their 'hang out' spot. He mentioned Isaac gamed there often with a note of annoyance in his voice. It was all separated by bookshelves in sections, most of them with 'models' on them that Derek didn't bother to explain. In order there was Derek's office, an exercise area, a den with a huge TV, and the library that Stiles had fantasized about when he'd first seen Beauty and the Beast. This latter area was like walking into a fantasy and Stiles _hated_ the lack of visual because he _couldn't even use it!_ He could smell the books when they toured the edge, and his fingers touched the spines in longing before pausing between a chair and loveseat.

“The plus of this area is that it has only a few small windows to make it feel warm and private despite being open to the floor below,” Derek rattled off, a useless bit of info to Stiles.

“You sound like a real estate agent,” Stiles teased.

“I write the initial dialogue for my agents,” Derek replied, and then didn't elaborate.

“For...” Stiles prompted as he poked at the furniture. They were so fucking soft compared to the firm and square ones downstairs.

“My job” Derek stated flatly.

“You're so talkative,” Stiles taunted, “I can't get a word in! Ugh, I'm totally having a Beauty and the Beast moment with the smell of these books. I may use an audio reader, but that _book smell, uhn!_ ”

Stiles wasn't acting. The second the scent of old books hit his nose he started to get hard and wet.

“I don't have any braille books, but I bet the library has some so I could-”

Stiles pulled from his grip on his elbow, nearly slapped him trying to find his face, and pressed against him to crush their lips together as soon as he figured out where they _were_. Derek moaned into the kiss and Stiles' leg wrapped around his thighs. The alpha obliged, picking Stiles up and letting him wrap all around him like the hungry omega he was.

Derek walked them across the room and Stiles stiffened in alarm. He was blocking Derek's view and there was a dangerous as hell _drop_ not far from them, but Derek knew better than Stiles where they were and had instead headed deeper into the library. He turned and dropped into a big, soft chair while groping Stiles' ass. Once seated he pulled Stiles back in for a kiss and he chased Derek's tongue with his own.

“Take me, take me, take me,” Stiles pleaded, “Oh gods, now! Here! Hard!”

Clothes were in the way, but Derek was judicious and Stiles' jeans were soon sliced off his body. Stiles couldn't be arsed to care. His body was screaming to be mated, the scent of aroused alpha was making him dizzy with lust, and all he wanted was Derek inside of him _immediately_. Derek, however, kept trying to postpone things.

“Touch me,” Derek ordered, pushing him back for a moment.

“Kind of the point,” Stiles growled, lunging for him again.

He hit elbow and groaned in pain, rubbing at his forehead.

“I was taking my shirt off,” Derek deadpanned.

“Yeah. Noticed,” Stiles rubbed at his cheek.

“Touch me.”

“I'm _trying_ ,” Stiles whined, reaching down for his jeans this time.

“I mean with your hands.”

“Duh!”

“On something other than my dick.”

“Why would I do that?” Stiles mumbled as he fumbled with the button.

Derek snatched up his wrists and planted them over both pecks. Stiles paused a moment in surprise at where he found his hands and then automatically gave them a squeeze.

“Wow. Firm.”

Stiles' hands wandered south and Derek growled irritably and returned them to his chest, “ _Touch me_. Fucking pillow princess!”

“Oh, so... like... lots of touching.”

“Yes. Lots of touching! We're fucking like bunnies, and as hot as you are I could use a bit more stimulation this time around! Besides, isn't that how you see? _Look at me_ , Stiles.”

Stiles shuddered. Derek had put a bit of alpha order into his voice and omegas were compelled to obey alphas. Not required, thank goodness, but there was this niggling urge to do what they ordered. It was why so many alphas and betas argued that omegas had limited ability to consent and had to be kept 'safe' from sexual predators. However, an urge was something that an adult could push back on. Stiles was incredibly impulsive, but he was also stubborn as hell. He didn't open his eyes at that order, but his _hands_. He couldn't stop touching. He pressed firmly against Derek's chest and slid his hands up his shoulders, down his arms, groping his biceps and down to the hands resting on his hips. He was firm, strong, and his arms had medium thick soft hair. His hands were so big, a fact Stiles already knew, but touching them with his hands was different than feeling them grip his body. Breathing hard, he didn't stop there. Stiles' hands moved to his face, stroking the stubble that had roughed up his body in the dark, and into his hair which he gripped as he leaned forward to snog him hungrily. Derek moaned into his mouth, hips jerking hungrily. Stiles' hands moved down to his chest again, but this time he moved lower. Derek's abs contracted as he skimmed over them, drawing a gasp from the alpha. It was weirdly empowering to have him aching in his jeans and Stiles scratched along his straining shaft with blunt nails.

“Fuck!” Derek swore, and Stiles' mouth fell open in shock as he felt wetness soak through the material.

“Oh, wow, you're so hot for me,” Stiles whispered.

“Noticed?” Derek growled, “Get my pants off. Now.”

Despite his firm tone he hadn't used his alpha voice that time, so Stiles ignored him in favor of undoing his fly and reaching inside to pull his shaft free of his briefs. Derek was practically panting, his firm abs contracting with each breath while Stiles' hands explored both his torso and his length.

“Stiles,” Derek groaned, “I'm going to pop a knot if you keep that up.”

“I mean, that's mostly the point? Fill me up and keep me full?”

“ _Outside_ of you. Get my fucking pants off now!”

Stiles managed to stand without falling and got Derek's trousers off and climbed into his lap. Stiles' body was aching with want and now that he'd started he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Derek pulled him where he wanted him and Stiles felt the soft tip of his cock nudge his drenched entrance. Stiles had to breathe out slowly to get his body to obey without prep, but it was worth it when Derek whimpered beneath him. His body was tense with want and Stiles was drunk on hearing him fall apart with lust.

“Your fingers are fucking sinful,” Derek gasped as Stiles gripped a fistful of his hair with one hand and slid the other hand down his body, “More, Stiles, more. P-please!”

“Oh my god, beg me,” Stiles whined, pushing down to settle into his lap.

“Shut up,” Derek argued, not liking his insinuation, but Stiles' muscles clenching were making him crazy and he was soon whining while pulling Stiles up and dropping him back down again, “Oh, fuck, please...”

“Please what?” Stiles growled, licking at his ear as he slid down his body. Derek's knot was forming and Stiles was dripping wet.

“No, I can't...” Derek gasped, he was writhing beneath him, fucking up into Stiles' body and gasping for breath, “You don't... Stiles!”

“Oh, god, I'm close,” Stiles realized, shocked it was happening without his knot.

A moment later and Stiles was spilling over his body, arching in bliss as his pleasure overcame him. Derek pulled him down hard and his knot expanded inside of him. The shock of his prostate suddenly being stimulated had him rolling into a second climax and this time Stiles lost himself completely. He scratched at Derek's chest as he writhed on his cock, shouting in pleasure. As he collapsed across Derek's body he could feel the alpha's cock pulse inside of him.

“Oh, fuck yeah, fill me up,” Stiles moaned.

Derek moaned deeply, his hips rolling up as Stiles' body massaged his knot and milked him of his pleasure. Stiles could do it. He could open his eyes and get a solid good look at the alpha who was breeding him so good while he was lost in his orgasm. Chances were pretty damn high his eyes were closed.

Stiles didn't take the chance. The alpha was kind, giving, and rich as fuck and Stiles was officially getting scared. If he was also young and hot- or even just not old enough to be his grandfather- chances were Stiles would fall for him hard. Two days and he was already so fucking amazed by this man that he was worried about his heart. Not good. Stiles had to keep disconnected. His psuedo-blindness was keeping him safe and he needed it now more than he needed the lie itself. He was more than a bit worried that Derek was in the same boat, because he hadn't been begging Stiles for sex just then. Not when Stiles was on heat. What would an alpha beg an omega for besides a mating bite?

They lay together on the chair, breathing softly and drifting in and out of sleep while tied together. Stiles wasn't so much tired as worn out and Derek was rubbing his back soothingly. Eventually his knot released and the mess of clean up began. Stiles escaped to the bathroom downstairs, insisting on being allowed to find it himself despite Derek's warning growls. He made it into the bathroom with his pants and underwear clenched in one hand, shut the door, and opened his eyes with a slow breath. The room was pretty as hell, just like Derek had described. All silver fixtures and the mirror had fake aging around the edges to make it look like an antique. He sat on the toilet for a bit, feet up on a convenient stool, and fiddled with his finally charged cell phone's settings. He changed it to the functions that would allow someone with accessibility needs to use voice activated commands and be told who was calling and tested it by searching the internet for a few random things.

He had fifty-three missed texts from his nearly 40 hours of silence between leaving it off in the limo and then uncharged after the long flight and then keeping it off longer because he hadn't been alone long enough to switch the settings. His dad had called a hundred and two times. Damn. New record. Scott was at least half of the text messages and the others were his dad and Parrish. Parrish was a nice guy, but he was nosy as hell and Stiles was tired of him acting like he had a right to poke into Stiles' life. He thought the guy might want to bond with him and they'd be well matched since he was also on the force, but Stiles wasn't attracted to him and he didn't want to end up dependent on someone else. He ignored those in favor of texting his dad and Scott.

**Stiles: Hey Scott and Dad! I'm okay, so quit freaking out. Seriously. It's fine. The guy is nice and he took me to New York. Pity everything's going bottom up- literally- or I'd maybe get to do the tourist thing. Anyway when you're done puking from my totally awesome joke feel free to stop blowing up my phone. Kinda busy making babies over here. I'll be home in a couple of months. The alpha who took me home is a pretty chill guy and gets where I'm coming from. He's not even, like, mad about me being a money grubber. I think he's an omega rights supporter or something.**

Stiles let out a slow breath, cleaned himself up, and went to the sink to wash up. The vanity mirror was across from the reflective shower stall door and Stiles' eyes followed the mirror over the sink to the mirror in that one. An endless tunnel of reflections of Stiles staring at himself in misery. He looked awful. The jet lag combined with doing something he found morally distasteful, being away from those he loved, and now having his eyes closed constantly had really taken an emotional toll. Physically he just had a few bruises and scratches from enthusiastic sex, but his eyes... Windows to the soul indeed. Stiles' eyes had aged a decade. He wasn't the sort to believe that losing your virginity was some special event, but he did know that this experience had effected him a great deal.

Stiles dressed, let out a slow breath, closed his eyes again, opened the door, headed for the kitchen, and unerringly smacked his hip into the kitchen island.

“Well, I can't exactly move that,” Derek snorted.

Stiles couldn't help the smile. The guy's dry humor was _funny_. Half the time he couldn't tell if his sass was real or not.

“What are you good for then?” Stiles laughed, “I'll survive a few bumps and bruises. I usually do.”

“How's your ass?”

“Sore,” Stiles admitted with a laugh, “I went from virgin to sex fiend in 48 hours. I'm _hurting_.”

“You were a virgin?” Derek asked in surprise.

“Well, yeah,” Stiles shrugged, “I'm kinda annoying. If I had actual mating prospects I'd have mentioned.”

“I thought it was odd you didn't go in under a Once Bred Session if you had someone waiting for you back home.”

Stiles shrugged, “No, nobody waiting for me, and you don't get any money that way. Oh, and virgins aren't allowed to.”

“Really?” Derek asked in shock, “That's fucked.”

Once Bred Sessions allowed an omega to offer their womb up to increase the alpha/omega population with the stipulation in place that they would _not_ be bound to the alpha even for a bit. They would attend breeding ceremonies until they got pregnant, usually a once and done activity, and go home the same day. No money. No chance of keeping an alpha or being kept by them. A collar on their throat to stop any mating bites from happening. This was an action done by omegas who were in love with betas and no longer virginal. They got themselves pregnant so they were free from the usual laws demanding omegas breed with alphas if at all possible. Once they had at least one cub with an alpha they were allowed to marry whomever they wanted. This was what Stiles' mother had _actually_ done, although he'd told Derek otherwise. It required a lot of planning in advance. She had to be on birth control for a year and then physically separated from Noah for three months so that there was no doubt that the baby was the alpha who mounted her. She got zero funds from it because the alpha wasn't getting anything besides a good lay. He couldn't claim paternity of the baby born from her and he couldn't get visitation. He didn't even get her name, and she didn't have to know his if she simply avoided looking at that spot on the birth certificate. A one night stand sanctioned by the government to increase the breeding pool. It was the most discouraged option to the point many didn't even know it existed. Derek apparently hadn't known it wasn't available to virgins like Stiles had been. So it was probably discouraged among alphas as well. What was the point of a cub no alpha could claim? The option was there to prove that omegas weren't still sex slaves, but it was a technicality that didn't pass muster. If an omega took that option during a ceremony the alphas had to be warned and were then allowed to check the neck for that collar because they might not be okay with a fuck and run.

“So,” Stiles stated, “Your sister is an alpha as well?”

Derek hummed in agreement, moving about the kitchen in a way that implied food prep. That was confirmed when the stove lit and the smell of propane reached his nose.

“You come from a bonded family?” Stiles asked, wondering where he was coming from. It was rare that alphas actually looked at things from omega perspectives since alphas ruled the world and omegas were often viewed as 'best silent'.

“Yeah, my parents grew up together. When my dad turned out to be an omega and my mom an alpha she suggested they bond so he wouldn't ever have to go to a temple and degrade himself as if he were nothing but a borrowed womb.”

Stiles' eyebrows climbed. That was the kind of talk that created enemies in politics.

“Wow, you're... really progressive.”

“You're not?”

“I am. I'm just not rich enough to say the things you do out loud. So they fell for each other?”

“Classical friendship to lovers trope. They were both from alpha/omega families so the combined income was... well, let's just say I never needed my stipend and neither did my alpha siblings. Not to brag, just... I mean, we can afford to be progressive because we're community leaders wherever we go due to wealth. Lots of privilege and... stuff.”

  
Stiles snickered at the awkward petering off of his conversation. It was pretty clear Derek wasn't used to doing a lot of talking but with Stiles unable to communicate any other way he was forcing himself to talk. His voice kept starting out flat, toneless, and then would get tense the longer he spoke before just wandering off at the end. He had admitted he had to do presentations for work, but having a script was different than conversing. Stiles imagined that he was probably the kind of guy who just grunted, smiled, frowned, and gestured instead of talking. Maybe he was a hand waver. Stiles hoped he was. It would be funny with his sarcastic personality.

“Cool. My dad was a deputy when he met my mom. She was way younger than him, but he fell for her hard. She did the money thing and had me. No other kids, though.”

“You're close to your adopted dad though, right?”

“Yeah, it helps the alpha who sired me wasn't interested in claiming me as an heir.”

“That's a relief,” Derek nodded, “But a pity. If he'd claimed you you might not be in the financial situation you are.”

“Meh. Most don't even end up ordered to pay anything once the cub turns out omega.”

“Or blind.”

“True,” Stiles nodded, “Even if I'd been an alpha I might have been dismissed from the breeding programs if it had been genetic.”

“So what now? Your cub will be in the same boat you are someday.”

Stiles frowned down at the floor. It hit a bit too close to home. Derek couldn't know that poverty was a bigger concern than illness. Of course, Stiles had an advantage.

“I know,” Stiles said softly.

“You'll need someone to care for you, but you don't have a beta waiting for you. What about your cub? They'll need pack. ”

“I have a best friend,” Stiles shrugged, “Like your dad did. We're never marrying each other, like that's not a thing, but he'll be there for me and for my cub. He's an alpha so... so if my kid needs guidance someday they'll have it.

Stiles had to stop because it was overwhelming to even think of. To have a child, someone he loved the way his dad loved him, and then to be unable to care for them was devastating. What if he became depressed like his mother had? What if he just... gave up? Stiles put his hand over his eyes, trying to fight back the tears. The sink ran for a moment and then Derek walked over and wrapped his arms around Stiles, holding him against his shoulder.

“Stupid instincts,” Derek muttered, “Turning me into a sap and you into a crybaby.”

“Yeah, fuck instincts,” Stiles sobbed, laughing a bit afterwards.

“Fuck instincts,” Derek agreed, kissing the top of his head, “What are the odds? How long will that money last you what with there being bills waiting already? With more to come? Your dad unable to work? Can you afford childcare? Or can your dad watch the kid? I know you don't want to think about this right now, but I need to know, Stiles. How bad will it get?”

Stiles let out a slow breath and shifted to rest his chin on top of Derek's shoulder as he considered.

“It will last a while, and if I can get a decent job while my dad watches the kid and maybe works part-time doing light duty we'll be okay for a bit.”

“There's no _rest_ with a baby,” Derek pointed out, “He's not well, and an alcoholic.”

“He's done it already, he'll be fine. I'll be fine. He's not even drinking anymore. He _can't,”_ Stiles pulled away in irritation, “It's just the lot we're handed, okay? I don't exactly have a lot of choices here.”

“Stiles, this is... it's _shit._ You should get a stipend for being a breeding class, too. Alphas aren't more superior. _You're_ not inferior. Omegas aren't. Normally it doesn't even make a difference, it's just a big deal because alphas and omegas are so much healthier than betas. Difference is good for the gene pool. All alphas would be shit. So would all betas. We need omegas. You're important, too.”

“Where the hell did you come from?” Stiles breathed.

“Oh, don't worry,” Derek snickered, “I'm just being charming to win you over so I can break your heart when you leave. It's my revenge for you using me.”

Stiles heard the stutter in his heart to prove it was a lie and snickered. He was glad he'd learned years ago to stop that from occurring when he lied or he'd never be able to pull off his falsehoods. Derek broke the moment with an awkward clearing of his throat, prompting Stiles to giggle a bit, and he turned back to making food. Stiles' stomach growled loudly.

“OK Google, what time is it?” Stiles tried out, hoping his phone actually fucking responded.

A chime sounded and a woman's voice answered, “OK. It is 11:18 in the A.M.”

“Oh, you fixed your phone,” Derek mentioned.

Stiles internally winced, “That best friend I mentioned? He didn't want me doing this and started pranking me a week before I signed up. That was probably his less thought-out prank.”

“What if you'd needed to call for help?”

Stiles shrugged, “There's an easy finger swipe thing to get 911. It's not a big deal.”

Derek was silent a moment, “I sent Isaac away so we could have some privacy. I... wasn't expecting how much I'd...”

“Yeah,” Stiles swallowed against a dry mouth, “The lust is pretty intense.”

“Well, normally Isaac's my day-to-day servant with the rest of my pack popping in to make sure I remembered to leave my drafting desk, but-”

“Drafting desk?”

“In my office upstairs.”

“You are the KING of vague.”

“I'm an architect.”

“Oh, fuck, that's awesome!”

“Uh... thanks... so anyway, I didn't want anyone here. I can cook, but I'm not amazing at it. Isaac and Laura did last night's meal so...”

“Right.”

“So did you want to help or...?”

“Oh!” Stiles straightened up in surprise, “I mean, sure. I don't really know where anything is so if you just help me find things...”

“Here, just cut these into cubes.”

Derek pulled Stiles over to a counter, put a knife in one hand, and directed his other to a cutting board.

Fuck.

A real blind person, someone who had done this their whole fucking life, would know how to DO THIS. Stiles thought it through while fumbling for whatever was on the cutting board. Ew. Soft, cold, squishy, and sticky. Chicken, maybe? Stiles fought down an urge to tell him he was a vegetarian, because he'd probably kill himself before a month was over if he couldn't have meat and had devoured a steak the night before like it was candy, and started arranging his fingers to avoid slicing them off. Besides, if he gave him something harder to cut like carrots he'd definitely chop a finger off.

Stiles worked his way through the chicken slowly, managing not to nick himself although he did cut a sliver out of one finger nail. He pretended not to notice and hoped Derek did and picked it out. By the time he was done Derek had finished cutting other things on a different cutting board and took his chicken from him while Stiles fumbled at the sink to wash his hands. The sound and smell of sizzling meat filled the room and Stiles' stomach growled angrily.

Derek chuckled, “Not long now.”

“Roughly what direction are the plates?” Stiles asked.

“To your left and up.”

Stiles fumbled around in the cabinets, moving slowly and with thought, and was proud as hell of himself when he managed to get two plates down without fumbling them. He should have blindfolded himself years ago. It was making him actually _think_ before doing, and frankly it was a lesson he'd needed long ago.

“How long do you think you'll need to keep the servants away?” Stiles asked as he slowly worked his way to where the table had been pushed against the wall instead of where it normally sat in an open area between kitchen and exit. It could easily sit ten people but all the chairs were now lined against the wall behind the table except for two.

Stiles sat the plates down in front of each chair, let out a breath of relief, and tripped over a chair leg on his way back. He managed to steady himself and headed back for more dishes. By the time Derek had finished cooking he'd gotten the table set and was fairly proud of himself. Derek spooned the food onto the plates and Stiles eagerly sat down and tucked in.

It was hot. It was hot as _fuck_. Luckily Stiles liked spicy, but he hadn't expected it because he hadn't diced the veggies. Jalepenos galore! Hot sauce! Fucking hell! It was some kind of burn-your-mouth stir fry. It was delicious and satisfying, but he had to guzzle a glass of milk afterwards.

“Wow!” Stiles breathed, “Might be feeling that on the way out! Guess you were serious about needing a break from the sex if you fed me that!”

“What? Why?” Derek asked, voice shocked.

“That's not exactly bottom food,” Stiles laughed, picking up his plate and carefully heading to the kitchen sink, “I'll be out of business for a good 24 hours.”

“Well, shit,” Derek grumbled, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“When I smelled you cutting up peppers I didn't think you'd put the _whole bushel_ in there,” Stiles laughed.

“You seemed to like it. You didn't have to eat it if you didn't.”

“I loved it,” Stiles countered, “You're a good cook. I'm just teasing you for cock blocking yourself.”

“Maybe it's my turn to bottom,” Derek snickered.

Stiles dropped the plate.

After lunch they headed upstairs and Derek put on a movie to watch a movie. Derek spent an hour fiddling with the settings, swearing and growling at the television while he got it set up for the hearing impaired. Stiles munched popcorn and laughed at him while he struggled.

“Stop eating the popcorn! The movie hasn't started!”

“Make me,” Stiles laughed.

Derek growled irritably and they struggled with the bowl a moment, scattering popcorn everywhere while Stiles snickered.

“Now you have to clean it up,” Stiles stated.

“You plan to run a house alone? Time to practice. _You_ clean it up. Entitled little shit,” Derek snapped.

“The _rich guy_ just called me entitled?!” Stiles laughed out loud, but he did start sweeping his hands around to find the popcorn.

_Incoming text message from: Dadzilla_. Stiles' phone announced.

“Uh oh,” Stiles uttered.

The phone read the message in a robotic female voice, which made the whole thing sound surreal and as if it were for or from someone else.

“ _Stiles, there will never be a point in my life when I stop worrying about you just because you tell me to, and especially not when you've taken it upon yourself to be the parent. Again. You're eighteen years old, damn it. You're not ready to be a parent. I know it's too late at this point, but I'm angry, son, angry and disappointed. I told you I could find a way to make it work. I told you I'd take care of you for a few more years so you could properly court and find the right person. You didn't have to do this. Beacon Hills is a small town. There would have been someone eventually. A deputy, or a clerk, or someone who I could vet and make sure would treat you right. Now you'll be saddled with a kid, and you think school or work are going to be possible? Kiddo, I love you with all my heart, and I'll love every grandchild you give me, but this isn't a solution to a problem. It's a whole new journey in which you come out the other side changed and... and... old. When you get back here prepare to pack up your things, because you're not going to be using them anymore. You won't have time for video games or action figures. Your childhood? It's over, Stiles. And damn it, neither of us were ready. Unintelligable._ ”

The message didn't relay what must have been sobbing at the end and Stiles sat on the floor of the upstairs den of Derek's fancy penthouse with popcorn in his hands and a stone in his gut. For several seconds of stunned silence Derek just stood there, practically holding his breath, then he came over to Stiles and sat down on the couch. He brushed the popcorn out of Stiles' hands and onto the floor, dragged him up to his seat, and faced the screen.

“I think this calls for a Disney movie.”

“They always make me cry,” Stiles stammered.

“Exactly,” Derek decided, and the selections began to read out loud on the screen in yet another robotic woman's voice. Stiles decided that when he got home he was going to disable any and all similar sounds form every machine he had.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles had worried that Derek would be up his ass- literally and figuratively- and for a week that was the case as Stiles' heat made them both hot for each other. Stiles would slip away to actually get a chance to open his eyes, which were getting sore from the nose up, whenever he was in the bathroom or Derek was asleep. At one point he'd tried to sneak up to the library, but Derek had woken up and he'd had to pretend he was just doing yoga in the exercise area. He'd fallen on his face when Derek had walked up to check on him, feigning surprise instead of just a complete lack of skill in yoga.

However, Derek couldn't ignore the call of his work life forever and one day Stiles woke up alone and, after reveling in it for as long as possible, left the room to find Derek rushing about like a madman.

“I have to go into the office.”

Stiles pointed upwards in confusion and Derek must have noticed, “No, my _actual_ office. It's downstairs. Up here is just where I keep pet projects. I run my business from this building and I've been neglecting it. I don't want to go, but I absolutely have to go in for at least ten hours.”

Derek practically breezed by him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and rushing for the penthouse door, “I've left you food in the fridge! Top shelf is breakfast, second is lunch, so on!”

The door slammed shut and Stiles stood there for a moment, listening to the air and half expecting a trick. The elevator went down and Stiles' excitement began to build. Finally Derek was out of hearing range and Stiles let out a cheer of excitement and punched the air while _finally_ opening his eyes.

“WOO! YEAH!” Stiles ran a few laps around the downstairs living area in sheer excitement, slowly walked up the open stairs while gripping the railings- they were even _more_ _terrifying_ with his eyes open- and straight for the library. It was gorgeous and very Victorian, lots of dark wood and a fireplace that made it feel like _home_ more than even the bedroom. Stiles grabbed three books he'd been trying to sneak read for weeks and threw himself down in a chair by the fireplace with a squeal of excitement and began to _read_.

It was nearly five hours later when he heard the elevator and panicked. He leaped the scary-ass mezzanine walkway into the kitchen, nearly landing on the island, and pulled out the lunch he'd been left. He tossed it onto a plate and stuck it in the microwave before quickly setting his own place. He was trying to think up an excuse for the bang when Derek walked in. Stiles was waiting by the microwave with a cloth to protect his hand from the heat.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, pretending worry until he caught his scent, “Oh, it is you. Hey! I didn't think you'd be up or I'd have made you something.”

“I ate already,” Derek replied, “I couldn't-”

Derek was across the room and at Stiles in an instant, pulling him into his arms and pressing their lips together frantically. Stiles' body responded so aggressively it was overwhelming. He was pulling at Derek's hair and growling into his kiss. He hadn't realized in his distraction that his body had been missing his temporary mate so desperately. That need to breed and be bred, which would still be there for a few more weeks, was overpowering their senses. Stiles didn't remember stripping or repositioning them at all. He went feral, complete with growling and clawing, until his climax. Then he found himself on hands and knees on the kitchen floor, panting hard and dripping slick and come onto the floor. Derek was behind him, practically wheezing from his efforts, and Stiles' belly felt distended with his seed. He'd come repeatedly inside of Stiles, which meant they'd been at it for a while without any sense of rational thought.

“Holy shit,” Stiles panted.

“I... are you okay?” Derek asked, hand moving over his back. Stiles could smell blood. They'd been _literally_ clawing each other, “Shit. Fuck. Are you _okay?”_

“Yeah,” Stiles wheezed, “Wow. Yeah. I'm good. Great, even.”

“I don't even remember coming up here,” Derek spoke softly, sounding afraid, “I lost my mind. You're making me insane.”

“Yeah, but what a way to go,” Stiles breathed.

XXX

Days passed with this routine. Derek worked ten to twelve hours a day and stopped in at random times to fuck Stiles cross eyed. Stiles loved it. He took pictures of sunrises and sunsets from the balconies to send to Scott and his dad, languished in the Jacuzzi, read books, and watched movies to his heart's content. He did find one surprise: jealousy. It took a bit to rear it's head since he was so relieved to have time and space to himself, but eventually Derek's job became a source of frustration for him when Stiles found him working at nearly midnight in his home office.

His response was to strip naked and climb up on the drafting table to demand attention. Derek had been annoyed and snappy, but he'd also taken him into the exercise area, put him over a bench, and fucked him until he all but passed out. Then he carried him downstairs, cleaned him up, and... went back to work.

After that Derek shifted his schedule around and began to spend a few hours a day with him. It helped that their frantic urge to fuck several times a day was finally waning. Instead Derek broke out movies and TV shows. They would sit together in silence, Stiles sometimes laying across him in such a way that he could sneakily open his eyes, and watch whatever they wanted. Derek didn't seem to care what they watched, but he enjoyed Stiles' commentary and would chuckle at his antics. At one point Stiles overheard him ranting to someone over the phone about how annoying the Actiview app was for him and had a good laugh at Derek's complaint.

When the weekend hit Derek spent the whole of Sunday home pampering Stiles and the renewed attention soothed his bruised ego.

It was nice. It was comfortable. Stiles could envision a life in which he were Derek's spoiled little house spouse. It wasn't the life he really wanted, but it was a _nice_ life, and he could see how many would be seduced by it. If it weren't for his father he would have been so very willing to put his life in Derek's very capable hands, especially when the alternative was raising a child virtually alone. Without a mate he wouldn't have free time after work, it would all be about the kid for the next 18+ years, so either way he was going to continue his life trapped in a house.

Finally there came a day late in the month when Stiles turned to Derek with a shocked look on his face and waited for him to acknowledge it.

“What?” Derek asked.

“Dude,” Stiles twisted about from where he was lying on his lap 'watching' tv, “Dude. We haven't had sex today.”

“Well, that can be easily-”

“ _Or_ yesterday!”

Derek was silent for a moment, “Oh.”

“Yeah!”

“We're out of the fuck stage.”

“We're out of the fuck stage!” Stiles cheered, “Wait, why am I glad about that? A month ago I couldn't wait to lose my virginity? Who am I?!”

Derek laughed deeply, “Someone who finally gets to meet my friends and family without me hiding him behind my back and growling like a savage.”

“You want me to meet your family?” Stiles asked anxiously, “That sounds serious. That sounds _relationship_ serious.”

“Shut up. I'm calling Laura. She's going to hate you and it's going to be hilarious.”

“See, that's why I love you,” Stiles laughed, “You're an asshole, just like me.”

Derek went silent. Not quiet, but absolutely _silent_ and Stiles had to think back on his sentence before he groaned, “I meant that as a figure of speech. Calm down, Satan.”

“Right,” Derek grunted, then headed away from him to make a call while Stiles laid back down to _not_ continue watching the show. Instead he listened in and ignored the fact his stomach was twisting angrily in his gut.

“Hey, Laura? Yeah, we're out of the fuck stage.”

“ _So does that mean it's time for plan B?”_

“Shut up. Yeah. Come on over whenever.”

“ _You're such a jerk.”_

Derek grunted and just hung up without saying goodbye. Stiles frowned. Plan B? Fuck. He hoped they weren't trying to convince him to stay, although frankly all they really had to do was order Stiles to stay and he'd be stuck for the requisite three years until divorce was legally allowed. Then he'd lose custody of any cubs that came of the union, and of course he'd forfeit the money entirely. Money his dad needed. Stiles had gotten too comfortable. He needed to remember to be an annoying asshole and get Derek to want him gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Three weeks in. One to go before he could take his first pregnancy test. If it were negative than Stiles would be staying another month. After the second month if he didn't manage to get pregnant he'd be leaving in disgrace: sans money. Stiles woke up on their third non-sex frenzied day with a bit of morning wood and decided he was going to initiate sex. Just because the Derek was sleeping with his arms wrapped around Stiles as usual, big spoon to Stiles' little spoon, and Stiles could feel his hardness against his backside. He found Derek's hand and brought it down to his own length while arching back against him, trying to get a bit of friction going. Derek hummed in his sleep and nuzzled in closer, teeth grazing Stiles' throat and subsequently touching his mating gland. Stiles' breath caught in his throat and his hips jerked as burning desire shot up his spine. He rutted against Derek's hand and with another unintentional graze of the alpha's teeth he creamed his boxers.

“Oh, fuck,” Stiles groaned, both disappointed and sated.

“Mm?” Derek grumbled.

“Uh, hey there, big guy,” Stiles twitched his hips back again and Derek chortled.

“You have a wet dream or something?”

“Or something,” Stiles grumbled, “You were rubbing me just right in your sleep and I embarrassed myself.”

“Nothing embarrassing about getting off,” Derek soothed, “Especially if you plan to reciprocate.”

“Well, there's one part of me that can't wait to fulfill you,” Stiles flirted back.

“Wow, that was just sad,” Derek teased, “Have you _never_ listened to romance novels?”

“Shut up!” Stiles laughed, punching wherever he could reach.

“Ow, asshole!” Derek laughed, tackling him hungrily.

They laughed until the passion took them, and Stiles got to experience his first round of sex without instinct driving him insane. It was a lot messier, mainly because Stiles didn't get as wet when he wasn't on heat. Derek opened him with lubed up fingers and that was surprisingly pleasant just based on the attention the alpha was giving him. When Derek was finally able to slide into his body it was slower, his breath hot on Stiles' neck and his arms tight around him.

Derek moved slowly, indulging himself and moaning softly as he fucked into Stiles' body. His hands stroked his body tenderly, cupping one cheek to turn his head and kiss him thoroughly while the other teased a nipple with his thumb. Stiles wasn't as ravenous now that the heat Derek's initial mating had triggered was past, but he still enjoyed the friction. Derek didn't try to get him off again, and for that Stiles was grateful. He was overstimulated and enjoying his touch more than anything else.

_I'm so completely screwed. In more ways than one._

XXX

“Oh my god, Derek, he's fucking gorgeous!” A woman's voice exclaimed.

Stiles straightened up and turned his head towards the woman headed his way. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him in for a tight hug, overwhelming him with the scent of an unknown alpha. It was surprisingly off-putting. She stepped back and cooed again.

“Oh, you're precious! Derek, you have to keep him! Who cares about the eyes!”

“It's not about the eyes, Laura,” Derek replied, voice bitter, “He doesn't want to stay.”

“So buy him things!” Laura announced, “My omegas live to be showered with gifts. They belong on pillows with-”

“Wow, sister, you are a piece of work. You come from this stock, Derek?” Stiles asked, leaning aside and towards where he could smell _his_ alpha.

_Not my alpha! NOT MINE!_

“Laura and I have some... differing beliefs.”

“What Derek means is that he's a weirdo,” Laura announced, “Maybe you'd want my sister more? She'll be 18 next year. I can arrange it. She knows how to treat an omega. Bit of a disciplinarian, but I know that you lot love a firm hand.”

So saying she gave Stiles' ass a smack, making him yelp in alarm and drawing an angry snarl from Derek.

“KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF HIM!”

“Oh, Der, calm down,” Laura laughed, “He's so _left_ , what a pussy, am I right, Stiles? No wonder your eyes are already wandering.”

“I'm blind,” Stiles stated in a flat voice.

“Even so,” She chirped, “What's for dinner?”

“Isaac hasn't mentioned,” Derek replied.

“You're having Isaac cook? Why? Isn't _he_ any good?” Laura asked.

“Oh, he's _very_ good,” Stiles growled.

“Stiles doesn't exactly cook,” Derek replied.

“I can cook! In my own kitchen,” Stiles argued, “I have, like, aids I use there.”

“How are you going to take care of a kid on your own if you can't even make an alpha a damn sandwich?” Laura scoffed.

“Laura,” Derek growled, “Aren't you laying it on a bit _thick?”_

“Oh, relax baby bro,” Laura laughed, “You have to put it to them plainly or they won't-”

“ _Both_ your sisters are like this?” Stiles snapped angrily.

“She's acting out to make a point,” Derek stated.

“It's not working,” Stiles replied dryly.

“Just relax, Stiles,” Derek huffed, “You too, Laura. Isaac's making dinner and Stiles is our _guest._ ”

“For now,” Laura threatened.

They sat at the table and Stiles worked his way through his food slowly. Erica and Boyd were back as well, but they were surprisingly silent. Erica had made a few comments under her breath that Stiles was ignoring, but Boyd had yet to do more than say hello. Overall it was awkward and uncomfortable for everyone. Laura was loud and talkative and Derek was sullen and distant. Occasionally he reached out to touch Stiles' wrist but he didn't say much throughout the night. When Laura finally left- drunk on aconite wine- Stiles was more than a bit emotionally drained.

“Laura's not usually like that,” Derek told him, “She's just mad that you don't want to stay. She's been planning on pointing out to you how awful another alpha might be. She's not even right leaning. _At all._ She was just being a bitch.”

“Well, it's not her business,” Stiles huffed, “We've only known each other a month. It's not like we're madly in love. Hell, I was up front with you so...”

“Yeah,” Derek replied dryly, “Up front. Sure. Come on. Bed.”

Bed for Stiles, but not for Derek. He tucked Stiles in and left him there to go to his office upstairs. Stiles was tempted to head up and seduce him, but the mood just wasn't there. He ended up playing games on his phone for hours until his eyes burned. Eventually he fell asleep, but it was to be shaken awake early in the morning. Stiles groaned and Derek sat down on the bed.

“Hey. Stiles. It's time.”

“Breakfast?” Stiles grumbled, but then recalled what he meant, “Oh. Oh, yeah. Wow.”

“Do you need help?” Derek asked, sounding anxious.

“I don't think so,” Stiles replied, “I mean, I've been taught how they work. Part of Omega homeschooling. If I do I'll call for you.”

Stiles took the box Derek placed in his hands and found his way unerringly to the master bath. He knew his way around the penthouse well enough that he didn't have to have his eyes open or fumble around anymore. He shut the door behind him and listened to Derek pace while he opened his eyes, stared into the mirror at his resigned expression, and then began to open the box. He spent a moment reading the instructions because, no, he hadn't actually been taught how pregnancy tests worked, and then used the small folded cup inside to collect piss and dip the stick inside. Stiles didn't look at it. He'd never be able to regulate his heartbeat if he saw the results before Derek. Instead he took the stick, capped it, closed his eyes, and headed back out to him.

“Wh-what's it say?” Stiles asked anxiously.

Derek took it from his hand and Stiles heard his heartbeat stutter. It was the kind that showed the word pregnant if it was positive rather than making people figure out symbols so he wouldn't have to guess. He didn't reply immediately, but when he did Stiles let out a breath of relief.

“Pregnant,” Derek said softly.

“Wow,” Stiles breathed, “This is it. I can go home.”

“Not... not exactly,” Derek stammered.

“Well, I mean, not immediately. I know I'm supposed to see a doctor first-”

“Not for three years.”

“Wait... What?” Stiles spat out, his heart seizing in his chest.

Derek spoke softly, “I can't send you home with a cub you can't take care of. Laura's right. You can't even make a sandwich without help.”

“That's not... No!”

“Besides, I think it's pretty obvious I was planning for a family and I... want you,” Derek said softly, “You can have a good life here and-”

“And hate you for it!” Stiles spat out, eyes flying open.

Derek was gorgeous. Statuesque, just as muscular as he'd felt with his hands, with perfect skin and hazel eyes a guy could get lost in. His hair looked like it belonged on Superman and so did that tight-as-sin dark blue Henley. It didn't matter. He'd just swept Stiles' future out from under him and anyone who did that was as ugly as sin in his eyes.

Derek's expression was blank and to Stiles' surprise it didn't darken or turn shocked. His eyebrows rose a fraction, but otherwise his face was stony and almost... expectant?

“If you think keeping me prisoner here to turn out cubs for you for three years will win me over you've got another thing coming!” Stiles raged, “By then my dad will be homeless, if he's even alive! I came here to save him, you know I did!”

“I do, but-”

“You selfish, egotistical, _lying_ son of a bitch!” Stiles shrieked.

“Lying?” Derek asked, gesturing to Stiles' eyes.

“I was trying to get you to dump me, you oblivious fuck!” Stiles shrieked.

“I wasn't oblivious,” Derek stated, folding his arms and furrowing some shockingly expressive eyebrows. Stiles was left wondering how much subtext he'd missed this past month by not seeing Derek's eyebrows. “I knew you weren't blind. You're a terrible liar. And ableist.”

“I was betting on you being a typical privileged bastard and I'm a _fantastic_ liar! You can't even hear my heart falter!”

Derek pointed at Stiles' nose and made a circle with his finger in the air, “You have a tell.”

Stiles gave him the insulted and appalled look that deserved and Derek gestured at his expression and raised his eyebrows as if Stiles had just proven his point.

“If you knew I wasn't blind, why did you move everything?”

“Because I wanted to get back at you for being a gold digging bitch by being painfully charming until you fell for me.”

“Well, I guess we both suck at something, because I will literally _never_ love you!”

Derek did wince this time, “Why's that?”

“Because you're costing me my _father_ ,” Stiles choked out, too angry to be ashamed of the tears in his eyes.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are! He's all alone and he needs me and the money I'd have brought home! I was going to be careful as hell to use it to take care of him _and_ my baby and you-”

“I sent it to him.”

“You... what did you send him?” Stiles' eyes narrowed.

“The money,” Derek stated, “I sent him $250,000: the womb fee for an omega in California. Along with an open invitation to join us here... assuming he can travel.”

“Why would you do that?” Stiles asked in shock, too many emotional swings leaving him gobsmacked.

“Because my plan backfired,” Derek shrugged, and then turned to the cabinets to pull down a mug and pour himself a cup of coffee.

“How so?” Stiles was baffled.

“Because despite you being an annoying, lying, ableist little shit, I don't hate you.”

Stiles stared at his back- _fuck_ it was perfect, too- and tried to make sense of what had just happened. While he was gaping at him Isaac's bedroom door opened and he peered out.

“Derek? Did... did you want me to move the furniture still?”

“Yes,” Derek stated, “I want that guest bedroom ready in case Mr. Stilinski shows up. If not, Stiles will make it the cub's room when he starts nesting.

“You're keeping me... you're _really_ keeping me?” Stiles stressed the words.

“Yes,” Derek stated.

“What happened to progressive?” Stiles asked, “You didn't ask me, you just sprang this on me and let me think my dad was... Why?”

“Because I wanted to see what you were like when you weren't lying, and I _can't_ let you go,” Derek stated, not turning back to him while he sipped his coffee. Stiles had a feeling he'd been more comfortable when Stiles' eyes were closed, at least where emotions were concerned, “I didn't go to the temple for a lay, I went there for a mate and cubs. You were supposed to be there for the same things. You weren't _up front_ with me, Stiles.You were lying before we ever met. Consider that payback.”

Derek walked away from him, up the steps and into his office where he turned on his desk lamp and lost himself to his work. Stiles knew he'd be there for hours without leaving. After a moment of staring in shock he looked at his phone and confirmed that it was Sunday. Derek would be home all day. His only day off of the week. He hadn't worked during it until now, so it was probably an avoidance tactic rather than necessary. His time spent breeding Stiles had cut back drastically after Stiles' heat had ended. He'd still popped in for lunch, but he'd had less time to watch movies with him. They'd switched to shows that could be enjoyed during his hour long lunch since he was typically too tired after work.

“What about my cubs?” Stiles called.

Derek stood up to peer down at Stiles from above with a deep frown on his face. That, apparently, was all he was getting now that Stiles had his eyes open.

“You work twelve hour days,” Stiles pointed out, “What's the point of being in their lives if you're not _in their lives_. You might as well visit weekends and let me _go home_.”

“I'm not going to be a weekend dad,” Derek stated, and turned away, effectively cutting off eye contact again.

“I'll hate you forever! I'm not here willingly!” Stiles pointed out, “That ended when you told me you're not letting me go! This changes _everything!”_

“You're not a prisoner,” Derek scoffed.

“I'm not free to leave, so what does that make me?!” Stiles shouted angrily.

“You can leave _after_ you birth my cubs,” Derek stated, “Two or more. That open invitation extends to you as well. Visit on the weekends.”

“From across the _country?!_ ”

Stiles huffed in frustration and headed into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He had to think. He had to get his emotions under control. The day before he'd been feeling a mixture of sad and hopeful at the thought of leaving. Sad to leave Derek and his easy lifestyle, worried about raising a child with just his father, and hopeful that his plans would work out. Now he could, effectively, have it all but... not on his terms. If Derek had just sat him down and _talked to him_ instead of springing it on him and scaring him half to death... but as Derek had noted, he'd also been lying to him from day one. Before day one, since Derek had gone to the Temple to find a _mate for life_. Why was he even at a Temple on the other side of the country, anyway?

Now Stiles had a choice; start fresh with Derek or sabotage everything out if sheer rage. An hour later he had made his choice when Isaac finished moving the furniture back out of the spare room. Stiles packed all his shit into his bags, stomped out through the main area, and into the spare room. He slammed the door shut and flipped the lock, huffing out breaths until he fully broke down. Stiles slumped to the floor between his two suitcases and wept bitterly. He didn't know what he was feeling. He didn't know what he was doing. He needed to talk to his father, but he was too ashamed to call him and admit that his plan had completely backfired. Instead he reached out for Scott.

“Hey, buddy!” Scott chirped, “You coming home now?”

“No,” Stiles sobbed, “No, he's keeping me, Scott. I have to either stay forever or lose my cubs after three years!”

“No. No, he can't do that!” Scott argued, voice full of anxiety.

“He can! I can't... I can't do this!”

“What do you need me to do?” Scott asked, voice firm and sure. He'd do anything for Stiles, and they both knew it.

Stiles shook his head despite the fact Scott couldn't see him. He was sobbing too hard to answer. Scott made soft rumbling sounds, the comforting noises an alpha made to their omega to soothe them, and waited Stiles out. When he'd calmed again he noticed a heartbeat on the other side of the door. He moved closer to it and frowned, leaning against it as he tried to catch a sniff of who was there.

“Stiles?” Scott asked, “You still there?”

“Yeah,” Stiles replied, leaning against the door as he realized it was Derek on the other side. He didn't think he was spying. He wouldn't need to be close to the door to do that. His heartbeat was down on Stiles' level. He was _sitting_ on the other side, and Stiles reveled in the idea of him hanging his head between his knees in shame at having made Stiles cry. He hoped he felt sick.

“What can we do? What legal options? What _illegal_ options? Come on, Stiles, you're usually the brains between us. Tell me what to do.”

“Grow a pair,” Stiles replied automatically, an old joke between them referring to Scott's lack of interest in bossing people around despite being an alpha.

“Ha ha. Seriously. What do we do?”

“Nothing,” Stiles sighed, “Even if I were dumb enough to, like, _run away_ I wouldn't make it far while pregnant and once they caught up with me I'd be put in a Facility until I gave birth. A literal prison for omegas. I'd be considered a kidnapper. Derek would get my kid. No visitation. Nothing.”

“Abortion?”

Stiles heard Derek gasp on the other side and let him stew for a few seconds before he replied with a sad sigh, “Illegal. Besides, I don't want to do that. I came here resigned to have a kid. I might have done it for the wrong reasons but I have every intention of loving this cub with all my heart. I guess... I guess I'm staying. Forever.”

“So what are you going to do? You kept saying you needed the money and now... now your dad won't have money _or_ you!”

“He sent my dad the money.”

“Oh. Wow. Okay, well that was cool of him. He didn't have to, did he?”

“No, he didn't, but he did. He says he can't let me go.”

“Wow, so he's, like, in love with you? That's good, right? I mean... you said you liked it there, that it was really cool to live on easy street. That he was fun?”

“Not like this,” Stiles replied softly.

“So... he sent your dad enough money to survive without working and he cares for you and wants to help you take care of your kid?” Scott said slowly.

“That bastard, right?” Stiles laughed while sniffling miserably.

“So... you're going to stay with him forever? Or... or three years and then give up your parental rights to your cubs?”

“I don't know,” Stiles sniffled again, “I don't have a choice, really. I guess I never actually did. I was just... I was just deluding myself. Omegas don't get choices.”

“I'll never do this to an omega,” Scott whispered.

“Good.”

“I'm going to date like a beta.”

“You should,” Stiles smiled through his tears, “Find someone on personality instead of scent. Someone you have a chance in hell of enjoying your marriage with.”

“I'd never treat an omega like a walking womb.”

Stiles sobbed, “I didn't think Derek would, either.”

“You liked him,” Scott suggested carefully, “And he's being awesome about your dad. Isn't there a way to make this work?”

“Scott,” Stiles whined, “Don't make me think rationally.”

“I mean, I think we can both agree it's not my usual tactic,” Scott snickered, “But seriously, you like him.”

“No. Not anymore,” Stiles replied stubbornly.

Derek shifted away from the door and Stiles muttered a goodbye and hung up the phone.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles sequestered himself in the guest bedroom for three days, only coming out while Derek was at work in order to eat. He didn't go into the library. It felt tainted. His Beauty and the Beast fantasy had always been that; a fantasy. Nobody actually _wanted_ a bad boy or a jailbird or a Beast who locked them up until they fell for them. Stiles was seeing the horror of his reality as an omega. Derek held all the cards and Stiles had no choices except breed or don't breed... and he'd made that choice already.

Frustratingly, Derek's schedule had changed once again. Apparently he'd been working overtime to make up for his days off while Stiles had been on heat. Now he was working more average hours and spent time in the evenings at home. So Stiles' self-imposed imprisonment had become even more restrictive.

On the fourth day Stiles was pulled from an article he was reading on his phone by the sound of laughter from the main room. Several people were in there having a good time, and Stiles' loneliness left an ache in his chest. He got up, peaked out, and saw that Derek was hosting some sort of party. He had on a nice suit and was giving the group a smug grin as they beamed at him in approval. He must have been the one to tell the joke.

Stiles didn't particularly want to see him, but he'd barely spent time with anyone besides Derek for over a month and he wanted _people_. So he dug into his clothes for the suit he'd packed since most alphas were rich, frowned at the wrinkles he couldn't really fix, and slowly stepped out of the room to face the crowd.

The room at large froze and turned to stare at him, most eyes curious but a few judgmental. Stiles swallowed hard, adjusted his tie, and headed for the snack spread on the kitchen island. There was a centerpiece depicting a muscular figure and a diminutive one, the smaller kneeling and the taller one's head thrown back in a howl. So this was a party celebrating their claiming. The claiming that hadn't been officially sealed with a bite because Stiles wasn't talking to Derek, which was probably _super_ embarrassing for Derek. Cute. The table was set for dinner but it hadn't been served yet. Stiles wished he could have a drink, but he had a cub to think of so he accepted a glass of water from Erica. She gave him a cold and hateful glare, which prompted him to frown at her.

“What?” Stiles asked.

Erica turned away to carry more drinks to others without a word. Stiles munched on shrimp and glanced around himself at all the people. They were slowly starting to talk among each other again. As Stiles meandered between them all he caught snatches of conversation.

_Mine took ages to adjust. He spent months in seclusion, crying and crying as if he'd lost a child instead of gained one!_

_They really are so dramatic, aren't they._

_Honestly, you would think they'd be grateful. They gain so much when we choose them. A home, money, notoriety! Not to mention healthy children._

Stiles was shaking mad by the time he got to Derek, who was mid conversation with a younger woman who studied him curiously while he looked down at her with sorrow in his eyes. Stiles stood there and waited to be acknowledged like the good omega he was supposed to be. Derek had made it clear he wasn't letting him go and Stiles didn't want to spend the next three years- minimum- of his life in seclusion. He had to remind himself several times before speaking that if Derek was going traditionalist on him he could do things like punish Stiles physically if he didn't like his behavior.

“Good evening,” Stiles managed through clenched teeth.

“Evening,” Derek's eyes raked down Stiles' body, hunger evident as he drank in the sight of him. Stiles' body responded because he was in a room with a bunch of fucking alphas and that was what unclaimed omega bodies _did,_ and perhaps just a bit because seeing and smelling Derek was like ringing Pavlov's bell.

“Oh, Derek,” The woman spoke softly, “He's gorgeous.”

Stiles blinked at her in surprise as she smiled at him.

“Stiles,” Derek spoke up, “This is my younger... youngest... sister. Cora Hale.”

“Hello, ma'am,” Stiles let her kiss his hand and she raised one sculpted eyebrow.

“Call me Cora,” She stated, eyes perusing his body shamelessly.

_Ugh, alphas,_ Stiles thought to himself.

“How are you feeling?” Derek asked, “Better, I hope?”

“I'll survive,” Stiles stated blandly.

“You remember my sister?” Derek gestured behind him, “Laura?”

Stiles turned to see Laura smiling at him happily.

“Oh! I'm so glad you decided to stay!” Laura cooed, “You two are going to be so happy!”

“Derek's boring, but he's really is looking forward to being a dad,” Cora added, smiling softly, “I can't believe he went all the way to _California_. There are millions of omegas in New York, but he went to _every_ temple in the _country_ claiming none of them smelled right! Guess he was looking for you, huh?”

“Shut up, Cora!” Laura laughed, nudging her sister, “Cora's being sarcastic. She thinks the whole claiming omega thing is barbaric and was against him going from the start.”

“Says the lady with two omegas,” Cora snarked.

“Hey, I dated them! The new way!” Laura laughed.

“Only because that's the only way to legally get _two_ before turning two hundred!” Cora glared at her.

“Oh wow, you're both completely mistaken!” Stiles laughed.

Cora gaped at him, clearly assuming he meant her progressive views, but Laura just scowled.

“I treat them right,” Laura stated.

“I meant about me,” Stiles scoffed with fake laugh, “You said you were glad I 'decided' to stay. I didn't decide to stay. I'm Derek's sex slave and rent-a-womb despite his earlier promise to free me so I could take care of my only living relative. I hate everyone here and I wish I were dead.”

So much for behaving himself. Laura gaped at him while Cora looked between Stiles and Derek in concern. Stiles felt a heavy paw on his shoulder and turned to give Derek a vicious grin. Instead of being angry he looked... afraid? It was admittedly hard to tell with his stiff features.

“Do you have plans?”

“For what?” Stiles asked, shrugging him off, “Like, the nursery? I assumed you'd make all the decisions for that without consulting me as well.”

“To _hurt yourself_ ,” Derek emphasized.

Stiles scoffed and turned away, heading back to his room and the solitude he shouldn't have left. He slammed his door behind him to the sound of concerned murmurs and unasked advice being fired at Derek over how to 'handle him'. This time Derek didn't let him retreat. He unlocked the door with a key and stepped into the room, shutting it behind him. Stiles was undoing his tie and angrily tossing it down when Derek grabbed his arm and spun him around.

“Are. You. Going. To. Hurt. Yourself.”

“NO!” Stiles shouted angrily.

“You can't just say stuff like that,” Derek told him, “You're my responsibility and you're carrying my cubs!”

“And I will be,” Stiles hissed with narrowed eyes, “For the next three years.”

Derek flinched and Stiles paused, cocking his head to one side, “What? What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You just winced when I said I'd be here for the next three years. Are you reconsidering?”

Derek let out a slow breath and stepped forward, “One good thing about you pretending to be blind... I had to actually force myself to talk and describe things. So I hope you realize that it's heavily out of character for me to say this and that it will _not_ be the norm. I don't do the conversation thing easily like you do. Stiles, I don't want you to leave after three years. I want you to help me raise our cub and I'll make it as tolerable for you as possible. I won't ask you to give me more than one. You never have to share my bed again. Your dad is arriving as soon as he manages to sell his house.”

Derek turned to leave and Stiles called after him, “My dad's coming here?!”

Derek sighed and turned back, “I called him and told him that his son needs him for more than occasional visits. This is your party as well, so feel free to join us once you're done _sulking_.”

Derek shut the door behind him and Stiles felt a mixture of guilt and relief. His father would be safe. He'd be here. He'd be with Stiles and his grand-babies... and to do it he had to give up their home with their memories of his mother. Stiles curled up on the bed and wept.

It was late at night when Stiles woke again. His schedule was thrown off by his seclusion, and he hadn't had much to eat before he'd gone and cried himself to sleep. Stiles got up, stared down at his rumpled suit, sighed in disgust at himself, and headed into the living area to get some food.

What he discovered was Derek sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen island, his head on his forearms, with seven empty aconite beer bottles sitting in front of him. Since he'd had wine at the party Stiles felt it was safe to assume he was out for the night.

“Great,” Stiles huffed, “I got passed from one alcoholic to another.”

Stiles turned to the fridge to find something to eat and heard an odd shift behind him. The hair went up on the back of his neck. Stiles shut the fridge and straightened up, jumping in alarm when he realized Derek was _right_ behind him. He ended up turning and backing into the fridge in horror. Derek leaned in, pinning him in place with both hands on either side of his head, and glaring into Stiles' eyes as his own turned red. His breath smelled like a brewery and Stiles was instantly afraid. He didn't know Derek, not really, and many drunks got vicious when they had too much than was good for them.

“You... you... omegas, you're all the same.”

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles tried weakly, turning to the training he'd had as a child, “Pregnant and fragile here.”

“You're a liar.”

“Yeah, okay, but that's in the past, you know? Water under the bridge. My eyes are _literally_ open now. Right? All good now!”

Derek blinked blearily and shook his head, but didn't speak. He just _growled_.

Stiles frowned, trying to think about what other lie he was referring to, but Derek shifted away before he could figure it out. He pushed off the fridge and staggered away while gesturing to the room around him.

“You don't even want this. Don't want me. Don't want my cubs.”

Stiles started sliding sideways to get to his room again, but Derek whirled on him, tipping sideways as he did, but managed to right himself. He slammed his hand on the counter this time and Stiles had to lean back as Derek growled right in his face.

“Don't hurt my baby!” Stiles shrieked, the words coming from years of having them reinforced. That was what an omega was told to say when confronted by an angry alpha, even if they weren't pregnant. It would trigger their instinct- hopefully- to protect rather than harm.

“MY BABY,” Derek roared in his face.

“YOURS! Yours!” Stiles sputtered in shock.

“I won't let you hurt my son!” Derek's eyes smoldered viciously.

Stiles wasn't going to argue that it might be a girl. He just frowned at Derek's wording in confusion. It did make him pause, because now Derek wasn't looking directly at him and he thought he might not be _talking_ to him, either. Like his father sometimes looked for his mother when drunk, Derek was talking to a ghost in the room.

“You, you, you took him from me. You _stole him_. Stole my seed. All omegas ever want. I thought I could be an omeganist, I thought you deserved equal rights, but you don't. You're all thieves. All liars. All murderers.”

“I knew it!” Stiles snapped, “You went across the country to avoid the single omega laws! You _do_ have another omega! And how fucking _dare_ you call me a thief! _We_ can't even _work!_ We're not allowed! We have to wait three years to get divorced, and then we forfeit our kids! We aren't given a _choice!_ ”

“You don't even _want_ him,” Derek sounded broken now, his eyes fading to hazel and starting to water, “Please, just give me my son back. You don't want him. You can't love him like I already do.”

Stiles' hands moved protectively over his abdomen, “I don't... _not_ want him... or her... or them... I just... resent not having a choice. I planned on a cub, remember? Are you... are you even here with me? Derek? It's Stiles, okay? _Stiles._ ”

“You just wanted a free pass to do whatever the hell you want with your life, but kids aren't free passes. They're hard work. They're the _opposite_ of freedom. They're late nights covered in puke and piss and shit and not dating or seeing your friends for months at a time. They're nightmares at two in the morning and kissing boo boos and bedtime stories,” Derek backed away and dropped down in a chair in his living room and choked on a sob, big fat tears starting to roll down his cheeks, “They're first days at school and awkward plays and that first person who catches their eyes that you're _sure_ aren't good enough for them.”

Stiles had a growing sense of horror building. Something here wasn't right. Something awful had happened to a child, he was sure of it. Derek's head was in his hands and he was the picture of a broken man and Stiles both wanted to know and _definitely_ did not. He edged forward slowly, not sure if Derek were safe or not.

“You lied,” Derek sobbed, “They said the omegas were all there because they wanted to be claimed, but you didn't. You lied to me before I ever even caught your scent and now I can't get it out of my nose. I can't stop thinking about you. Wanting you. Why can't I stop wanting you?”

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles inched closer, “It's... it's gonna be okay, alright? You know, this is a lot easier than you think! You don't want me and I don't want you, so we just find a middle ground! I take the money and... hey, how about the kid stays here for school? You'll have them most of the year! In the better school district! And I'll take the kid during the summer and-”

“Don't you see?” Derek's head lifted and he favored Stiles with a broken look that had the omega's heart twisting in his chest, “I can't let you go. You'll just drown my cub again.”

Stiles' stomach dropped and then surged upwards and he had to bolt away to gag in the kitchen sink. For several minutes he was unable to stop retching despite an empty stomach. Just lots of bile and dry heaving. To his surprise he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Sshhh,” Derek soothed, hand rubbing his back gently, “It's going to be okay. Crackers?”

Stiles straightened up and Derek dabbed at his mouth with a towel, eyes still foggy from drink but a soft smile on his lips. Stiles was thrown by the sudden turn around, but he wasn't about to protest Derek's pampering. He ate the crackers he produced and was pulled into a warm embrace. Derek rubbed his back while holding him tightly, soothing Stiles while he tried to reason through what had just happened. It was horrifying to hear things from Derek's point of view. Omegas did sign contracts upon going into a temple to offer themselves up that specified they understood what they were doing and that they could end up permanently claimed- or near permanently now that laws allowed divorce. Derek had every reason to believe that the omega he claimed would want to _try_ to make it work, rather than be there just to get knocked up and go home with money and his cub. Hell, Derek had even known there were ways to do a one-night stand and that Stiles hadn't signed up for them. To find out he hadn't wanted Derek from the door... well, it sounded awful from that point of view, but what choice had Stiles had?

“Come on,” Derek pulled him towards the bedroom they had shared for a month. Stiles hesitated, digging in his heels, but Derek didn't seem to notice. He was drunk as hell and just manhandled Stiles into the room faster.

“Bathroom!” Stiles exclaimed, “I need the bathroom!”

Derek blinked at him a few times and let him go. Stiles hurried to the bathroom, locked the door, did his business, and washed his face and mouth out. He stared at his reflection for a few seconds afterwards, but until Derek was sober there was no real point in talking to him. He might bring back angry or sad Derek. He could, however, make a phone call.

“Dad?” Stiles asked when he picked up.

“Stiles,” His father sounded tired. Damn. He wasn't working anymore. He wouldn't be up at night now.

“Hey, sorry to wake you up, I just... I need you to look into something for me.”

“Did he hurt you? Hit you?”

“No, dad-”

“If he's yelling filth at you, that's abuse, too.”

“Dad, no-”

“Just hang on until I get there. I can't get you out of this mess, but I can protect you. I've been hinting to him that I want to be a free baby sitter for you two for weeks now, and he finally agreed to let me stay-”

“DAD!” Stiles cut him off, “I need you to do some research for me. Find out if Derek ever had a son, and what happened to him and the omega that sired him.”

“A son?” His father cut in, “Yeah, that's good. If he's claimed an omega before hand and crossed state borders to hide it, than you can get out of this!”

“I don't think it went down that way, but look into that angle, too.”   
  


Bile was rising again. Stiles drank a glass of water to wash it down and took a few deep breaths. His father was silent a moment.

“I'll find out and call you tomorrow. If you need to run, _do it._ I'll get you out of any trouble you get into. Just like old times, eh? _”_

“Thanks dad.”

“You doing okay?”

“I'm... holding on. It's not awful here, and he's not mean, I just... I'm realizing the system is set up for me to fail and fail and fail-”

“It's set up for you to be oppressed, but that doesn't make you a failure, son. It makes you a victim, if anything.”

“Thanks dad,” Stiles sighed, “I-”

The doorknob jiggled and Derek called for him, “Stiles? You sick again? I'mma door?”

“You're a door?” Stiles chortled.

“Open the door!” Derek yelled, hitting it hard enough to make it rattle.

“Okay! Okay! I'm coming! Dad, I gotta go.”

“If he's-”

“He's not!”

Stiles hung up and unlocked the door, opening it up for him and finding him scowling at him once again.

“Boy, to think I thought I wouldn't get used to that chiseled face,” Stiles frowned, “Do you have other expressions?”

Derek grunted, grabbed Stiles' arm, and pulled him out of the master bath and towards the bed.

“Uh, hold on here, buddy,” Stiles protested weakly, his body responding as usual, “You're very, very drunk. Uh.... you can't consent?”

Derek snorted and pushed him into the bed, “As if I'd ever say no to you anyway. Why would I? You're my omega. You smell so damn good. Had to have you the moment I caught that scent. Would have fought them all off, but they didn't notice. Fucking morons. So fucking good.”

Derek climbed up after him, crawling over his body and breathing in his scent hungrily. He buried his nose against Stiles' neck and breathed in deep, moaning on the breath out and pressing Stiles into the bed. His weight felt like coming home and Stiles' head fell back in submission, exposing his throat to the alpha who had laid verbal claim to him. He wanted Derek. He couldn't _stop_ wanting Derek. They were both hopelessly addicted to each other. Derek's mouth roamed that column, teeth scraping and making Stiles' toes curl. He let out a whimper and Derek's hips began to move faster.

“Stiles,” He moaned, “Stiles, Stiles, Stiles. Want to see your eyes when you come.”

“Yeah,” Stiles gasped, his mind wanting that visual as well, “Yeah, I wanna see your 'oh' face, holy shit. I've wanted to see it for _so long.”_

“Gotta enjoy you now,” Derek panted, mouthing down his neck.

“Yeah, now,” Stiles whined, wrapping his legs around his waist as he ground down against him, “Wait, why?”

“Can't risk it,” Derek growled, then got up on his knees and peeled his shirt off, “Off.”

Stiles wriggled out of his shirt, his skin pebbling in the air. Derek's warm body came back quickly enough. They pushed their shorts off and Stiles got his hands around Derek's shaft. Derek moaned and Stiles' breath came fast as he writhed beneath the alpha's hard body. Derek took them both in hand, teasing Stiles with his calloused fingers while he panted breathless beneath him.

“I can't keep my hands off of you,” Derek growled, “You make me drunk.”

“That was all the booze, darling,” Stiles keened, back arching as pleasure shot up and down his spine.

“Call me that again.”

“Booze?”

Derek huffed in amusement, “So funny. Make me laugh, too.”

“Yeah?” Stiles couldn't help the grin. He wanted this. Wanted to pretend they'd never fought and they still had a month of flirting and fucking to do. Pretend he wasn't a prisoner and Derek wasn't his keeper. Pretend they weren't omega and alpha, and doomed to be unequal forever. Perhaps in the night they could slip back to the faceless, pretend darkness that Stiles had courted him in and forget...

“Stiles,” Derek growled, pulling back, “Open your eyes.”

“No, don't wanna,” Stiles shook his head.

  
“I want to see them,” Derek insisted, “I want you to see me.”

Stiles obliged, but he pouted when he did so, “Why? I'll just close them when I come anyway.”

“Don't.”

“Then how will I come?”

“With them open.”

“That is both impossible and dangerous. I'd get come somewhere awful.”

“It's not impossible. I do it all the time.”

“No you don't,” Stiles scoffed.

Derek reached for his ass, sliding a finger into his wet entrance while Stiles' eyes fluttered closed.

“Dare you,” Derek taunted.

“You- oh!- you're daring me to come with my eyes open?”

“Yeah.”

“That's dumb.”

Derek crooked his finger and Stiles' entire body jumped as his prostate was grazed.

“Triple wolf dare you.”

Stiles' eyes flew open, “You _bastard._ Fine.”

Derek grinned viciously and slid a second finger into Stiles' body. He began to thrust them firmly, finger fucking Stiles until he was panting for it and whining in need. He kissed Stiles stupid, bit down his neck, and leaned down lower to flick a nipple with his tongue all while looking up at him through his long eyelashes.

“Fuck,” Stiles gasped, “You're going to make me come like this!”

Derek growled in approval and adjusted until he could kneel over him. He licked his palm and began to toss him off with firm, long strokes. Stiles' mouth fell open and it was a struggle to keep his eyes open as his flesh burned with need. Stiles played with his own nipples since Derek's hands were busy, twisting and rubbing them while Derek growled in approval. Everything was overwhelming and the emotional roller coaster of the last few days was wrecking him. He wanted _relief,_ and Derek was driving him towards it.

“Yes, that's it,” Derek growled out, “Come for me, Stiles. Do it.”

Stiles' eyes fluttered but he bravely kept them open even if they did cross. It was far from satisfactory. His body arched, his balls drew up, his cock spurted, but he was so busy focusing on keeping his eyes open he couldn't _enjoy_ his first touch of relief in ages. He could barely even see throughout it because his eyes lit up and went fuzzy as if he were about to faint! Finally Stiles fell back on the bed, panting and frustrated as he cursed his ruined orgasm.

“Gorgeous,” Derek growled, yanking Stiles' legs up over his shoulders, “Fucking gorgeous!”

Derek thrust home, fucking into Stiles' body fast and hard. The first few were too much for Stiles, who whined in frustration, but his body hadn't been sated so it quickly jumped on board. Stiles grasped at Derek's forearms and goaded him on as he fucked him hungrily.

“Fuck, yeah, more! Deeper! Gimme that knot, you big hunk of alpha!”

“Shut up,” Derek gasped, but he was keeping his half of the bargain. His eyes were open and Stiles was watching his muscles flex with real enjoyment. Those rolling abs were a solid ten and Derek's body was soon glistening with sweat. Stiles wanted to lick it off of him.

“God, you're gorgeous,” Stiles whispered, groping his pecks and clawing at his shoulder just because he could, “Fucking _pound me!”_

  
Derek's knot took ages to form- blame the aconite- but once it did his eyes rolled in his head and he began the slow grind inside of Stiles' body that would drive him to completion. It rubbed Stiles' p-spot like it was made for his body alone. Stiles let out several frantic cries, getting closer again, and if Derek lasted he might actually get to come properly. He sure as hell wasn't worried about keeping his eyes open this time.

Derek growled, eyes turning red and teeth elongating. Stiles realized the danger before it struck but was helpless to stop it. They were tied together and Derek had verbally laid claim to Stiles. He'd even thrown a party to affirm their boding. Now he gripped one of Stiles' wrists with one hand and held his head down with the other, pinning the omega beneath him and sinking his teeth into the gland at Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles couldn't have kept his eyes open had he wanted to. Hell, he couldn't even _breathe._ The pleasure was too intense. Stiles' body was draining the alpha of every precious drop of his come, grasping and sucking on his cock, as he growled against Stiles' flesh. The bond slid into place and Stiles felt their hearts sync up. His eyes watered. He'd never expected a bond and the idea of having one was still scary, but it felt _good_. Like warm blankets and a toasty fireplace and the expectation of pop corn and hot chocolate. Warm and satisfying and so very, very _thick_.

Thick like the knot teasing his prostate and filling his ass. Stiles shook through his pleasure, his climax dragged out until Stiles was gasping for breath beneath Derek. His legs were cramped and his body was absolutely exhausted. His claws came out and he scratched Derek until he drew blood, marking his back as if to claim Derek as well.

Except he couldn't.

Alphas could claim omegas, but omegas couldn't claim alphas. Stiles and his cubs could belong to Derek, but now that Derek had claimed him Stiles' cubs could never fully be his. Not only that, but being claimed removed an omega from any other pack they had belonged to that the alpha claiming them did not also belong to. That meant that Stiles' bonds to Scott, Melissa, Scott's packmates, and his _own father_ were slowly fading away as he laid there with dawning horror filling his heart. His father would still smell like him, be his dad emotionally, but he could no longer legally care for Stiles unless things ended in three years and his father re-claimed him. He was packless until Derek's pack bonded with him and scent-marked him, with only his new alpha as his connection. His pack had been small, but it had been _his,_ and now it was gone and Stiles felt so very alone with just Derek's bond floating around inside his skull.

“Shh,” Derek soothed, rolling them onto their sides and holding Stiles tightly as their legs intertwined, “Don't cry. It won't hurt for long. Don't cry, my love. I've got you.”

“Yeah,” Stiles snuggled in close, “You've got me.”


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles wanted the new pack to claim him immediately, but when he mentioned having them over Derek just frowned and shook his head. He didn't bring it up again, but Stiles heard him talking to Laura on the phone later. She claimed to be busy. Stiles got it. She had her own business inside of Derek's building. Something to do with wilderness survival, from what Stiles had overheard. Or maybe she was a lawyer? It was all a bit jumbled. Still, he was a pregnant omega who was now _packless_ , and that wasn't healthy.

Stiles' father arrived two days later, looking anxious as he pulled Stiles into a tight hug. Isaac had picked him up from the airport and delivered him before heading back into his room. He still hadn't claimed Stiles as pack, and as a beta Noah couldn't do so. Stiles had halted his seclusion, but now that Derek could communicate with his ridiculous eyebrows he was far more quiet than he had been before. It was lonely in the apartment and he was glad his father had shown up.

“I thought you were waiting to sell our house?” Stiles sniffled, overcome.

“I decided to keep it. With the money he sent me I'll just pay the taxes on it just in case we need it some day. I gave Melissa a key to check on it once in a while and came right here. I'm worried about you. Where's the bastard who took you from me?” His father pulled out of the hug and glared around himself.

“He's at work,” Stiles replied, “This whole building is his, can you believe it? I didn't think the alpha stipend was that high.”

“It isn't,” Noah replied, “However, you get a family of alphas who all mate with omegas, who produce more alphas, who all get stipends-”

“And you get super-rich families who can afford to keep their omegas and breed them with other rich alpha families who-”

“No,” Noah interrupted, “The Hales have never had an omega born to them. At least not on record.”

“On... record?” Stiles raised an eyebrow at that obvious bait and eagerly took the hook with it.

Noah sat himself down on the couch, admiring the seat while Stiles frowned. His dad was going to draw this out. Of fucking course he was. Stiles got his theatrics from his dad. So Stiles had no choice but to get him to crack fast.

“Dad, he scared me the other day,” Stiles said softly, which drew Noah to him sharply and got him focused as hell, “He got drunk and he was saying all this weird shit about how omegas are all alike, but that's not how he was for the whole fucking month before. I get that I don't really know him, but this didn't feel like a 'drunk guy reveals his true self' trope moment. This felt like... well, like trauma. Like he was acting out because of something that still hurt. I think an omega hurt him. Badly.”

Noah's frown deepened, “Trauma sounds about right. It got buried deep because Derek was a minor at the time, but I found it. An older woman, an omega, seduced him and-”

“You mean raped,” Stiles cut in.

“What?”

“Raped.”

“Derek's an alpha, she's an omega.”

“He was a _minor_.”

“Okay, yeah,” Noah rubbed his temple, “Statutory rape. You're right, I'm wrong, I'm sorry for being old.”

“Continue,” Stiles gestured.

“So she _rapes_ him, and she got pregnant. Apparently she had thought that a pregnancy would get her off the hook with the breeding laws for omegas. Her family was rich. She didn't need money. She claimed it was a temple thing in another state, eliminating the risk that an alpha would try to claim her if she _actually_ went. What she didn't expect was for the Hales to come after her. They wanted that baby with them and her in jail. Pronto. Except no one would take their claims seriously. They couldn't imagine an omega being that manipulative or intelligent.”

“Or an alpha getting raped by an omega,” Stiles rubbed his hands on his thighs as he thought through what Derek had said the night before, “But it didn't end there, did it?”

“I wish it had,” Noah sighed, “It's not official anywhere, but I found a source close to the family. That baby was an omega and she apparently had wanted an alpha. So now Argent has an omega child she doesn't want and the Hales are trying to get custody and lock her up. Any rational person would just... hand over the baby and make a deal.”

“A rational person wouldn't have raped a little boy,” Stiles growled out, pulling his claws back with some effort.

Noah nodded, “Listen, this next bit is awful so...”

“Tell me.”

Noah sighed and shook his head miserably, “Okay, but consider that your trigger warning, kid. What happened next the fire department figured out, but I got the info from a friend of mine so it's legit.”

“Fire?”

“Yeah. Fire. Burnt down the whole house with nearly everyone inside, but first she drowned that poor little baby in a barrel of gasoline.”

/I had a description here, but it was so graphic and awful I decided this story would be better without it/

Stiles sat back, running his hand over his face. He felt like he'd done more crying in the span of a week than he had since... well, since his own mother had died. He felt numb this time. He'd prepared himself for what he might hear and it _hurt_ , but distantly. This death was long ago and that woman would never be near his cub. Ever.

“The murderess?” Stiles asked miserably.

“Kate Argent got life in prison,” Noah replied, “Derek and Laura have been pushing for her sentence to be re-evaluated.”

“They want her _released?”_

“They want the death penalty and right to establish.”

Stiles thought about that and what it meant, that Derek was asking for the right to _kill_ an omega, the mother and murderer of his child.

“Good,” Stiles decided, “I hope they get it.”


	9. Chapter 9

The last two days before his father returned had been fairly silent during lunches. Derek read the paper, occasionally silently pointed out articles about omega rights as if he were trying to remind Stiles that he wasn't the cave man he'd behaved like while drunk, pecked a kiss to his head, and left again. Dinner had been a less awful affair. Derek sometimes spoke at that point. There had been a brief mention of going out to the movies on Friday, which would be Stiles' first opportunity to leave the loft in over a month. Stiles hadn't fought the return to Derek's bed, but things were stilted between them and while Stiles craved his touch constantly he squirmed away when Derek became affectionate outside of sex. At the very least he knew that Derek didn't intend to make him some sort of display trapped in his house. He planned to take Stiles out and show him off, at the very least, and he definitely planned to love his children. These things had been at the forefront of Stiles' mind while he'd been questioning his father, and he was still discussing them with his dad when Derek returned home for dinner.

Noah stood up and headed over to him, face wary but hand extended to greet Derek. Stiles' new alpha shook his father's hand firmly and stepped forward to press a kiss to Stiles' forehead in greeting. He looked tired and immediately sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before forcing them open and gesturing to Stiles' father to sit down as well.

“I hope your trip was well,” Derek stated, plastering on his 'schmooze smile'. Stiles hated the schmooze smile. It was fake as fuck, but people fell for it all the time. Derek said he put it on for clients, and he'd seen Derek wear it at their claiming party. It was his armor for dealing with people, an armor that Stiles had already seen beneath. Noah didn't seem to be falling for it. He gave one right back and the two men sized each other up while Stiles stood there staring at them both.

Protocol said he should be getting drinks, possibly even preparing food. Hell, he should have had dinner ready and on the table. For the whole time he'd been there Derek had cooked with Stiles just helping out until they'd fought, and then Stiles had started cooking for himself in order to avoid Derek. Over the last two days he'd kept it up to stay busy, but when his father had shown he'd gotten distracted and hadn't prepared dinner for his husband and father. He was feeling that ancient guilt: the one that said _omegas_ were expected to do things. He suppressed it, but went to prepare food anyway because someone had to and the two men were busy with a staring contest.

Stiles dragged vegetables out of the fridge and pantry and tossed them down on the cutting board. He picked up a knife to start cutting and felt Derek's telltale presence near him. He glanced up to see Derek reaching for the stir fry pan. He glanced his way and raised his eyebrows in question. Stiles nodded and Derek prepped the pan and collected spices. By the time Stiles was done chopping veggies the pan was ready to toss them in. A nice flavorful stir fry was quickly filling the room with it's delicious aroma. Stiles served it up and headed to the table with two plates while Derek carried his own.

Noah joined them, looking impressed, “Wow, if you'd cooked like this at home I'd have eaten it more often!”

“We couldn't afford the variety of vegetables and spices,” Stiles replied sadly.

Noah's eyes drooped, “I'm sorry, kiddo. I wish I could have given you more.”

“It's fine, dad,” Stiles smiled weakly, “You can make it up to me by eating healthy from now on.”

“That's cold,” Noah told him, taking his first bite, “Wow, but this is not.”

“Too spicy?” Stiles worried.

“ _Perfect._ ”

Stiles smiled at his dad fondly and tucked into his own food. He wasn't looking forward to the point when his own food consumption was changed by pregnancy. He was hoping it wouldn't be too rough. Most omega's didn't have serious issues, but it wasn't unheard of for them to have some awful side effects. For the moment, Stiles was still feeling good and symptom free and planned to eat well until he couldn't.

“Stiles is quite the cook,” Derek stated blandly, pushing the food around on his plate.

_Holy shit, he's nervous!_ Stiles realized, smothering a grin, _This is going to be fun!_

They ate in the most uncomfortable silence Stiles had ever felt, which was impressive since Stiles was the king of awkward. Derek was fighting his need to dominate Stiles and his father in order to keep the peace, and Stiles' father was just playing the long game. He was a beta who was used to being in control, but he'd also done his time as one following alphas and betas. Derek didn't have that experience since he and his sisters had risen to power _young_ without their mother to teach them to be calm under her power _._ It meant that Derek kept growling under his breath and fighting to keep his manners in line with expected behavior. It was all very graceless.

After the long and uncomfortable meal Stiles set about washing dishes while Derek and his father continued the long line of awkwardness on the fancy ass leather sofa. Derek eventually got up from the couch to head into the kitchen and stare at Stiles intently instead.

“Hey there, creeper,” Stiles glanced his way.

“Staring at my mate isn't creepy.”

“You wanna run that sentence past your filter again?” Stiles chuckled.

“Do you want a servant?”

“Hm? Oh, hey, where _did_ Isaac go?”

“Isaac moved in with Cora because we needed privacy and space while bonding,” Derek stated, “So do you want a servant? If not, I can have him stay there permanently.”

“He came back after my heat cycle was over,” Stiles glanced at Derek to see his face stony, “He left again after we fought. I thought you were keeping him away to avoid scandal or something.”

“He doesn't like fighting. His father was a real bastard.”

Stiles gave him a surprised look and Derek sighed, “He gave me permission to tell you this so he doesn't get... I think the word he used was triggered. Isaac's father used to lock him in a freezer to punish him for... existing, as far as I can tell. He beat the shit out of him and yelled and-”

Derek stopped talking in favor of rushing forward to see how badly Stiles had damaged his hand when he'd squeezed the glass he'd been washing hard enough to shatter it.

“I'm gonna go with yes to the servant,” Derek frowned as he pulled glass out of Stiles' palm, “You're going to want someone helping you with the baby anyway. Kids are exhausting.”

“It's not like I have anything else to do,” Stiles frowned, “And my dad _did_ show up to help with the baby, but yeah, bring Isaac back. He shouldn't have to give up the safety of his alpha's home because I'm loud or something. I'll stop shouting at you and start being passive aggressive or something.”

Derek frowned, but not at the joke,“I thought you wanted to go to college or work or something? Aside from money, wasn't that the whole point of this? I mean, it's fine if you want to be a home maker, that's just as worthy a life or-”

“NO!” Stiles shoved his uninjured finger in Derek's face, “I WANT TO GO TO COLLEGE AND HAVE A CAREER! NO TAKE-BACKS!!!”

“I wasn't going to-”

“NO TAKE-BACKS!”

Derek smothered a grin, “Okay, okay, no take-backs.”

“WOO HOO!” Stiles cheered, punching the air and managing to hit his fist on the light above the sink, “OW!”

“So much for not shouting. Promise me,” Derek took his hand and his pain, “To do something _safe_.”

“I want to work for the FBI.”

Derek's eye twitched and Stiles rolled his eyes, “As an _analyst_ , geez. Relax. I'm not exactly field work material. I'd cry like a baby if I got shot in the foot let alone was seriously injured by a suspect.”

“No argument here,” Derek agreed through gritted teeth, “But don't you have to go to Virginia for that?”

“I mean, yeah,” Stiles grimaced, “I guess I'll have to think of something else.”

Derek was silent and Stiles sighed heavily and turned back to the sink to drain the blood soaked water out and start the dishes again. When he looked up again Derek was back in the living room talking softly with his father about Stiles' future. Without discussing it with Stiles. As per usual. They _both_ weren't nearly as progressive as they thought. As he did so he overheard his father make a rather... frustrating suggestion.

“How about a drink, Derek? You got anything strong? That flight was a killer.”

“Sure,” Derek said after a pause.

Derek got up and headed to the liquor cabinet while Stiles shot an angry scowl at his father, who calmly took out his phone and texted something to Stiles.

**Dad: We already know he gets loose lipped when he's drunk.**

Stiles grinned at his dad and went back to scooping ice cream for dessert. He poured some root beer over his own and joined the men while they cracked open some cold ones. Stiles tucked in while his father sat back, eyes sharp, and began to _pretend_ to get drunk. Stiles smirked into his ice cream. It was a tricky situation, because he did have to drink _some,_ but for every beer he had, Derek ended up having three. His father just kept collecting bottles, putting them on the floor by his feet, and switching them out so that it looked like he was at various states of drink; meanwhile, five of the bottles were completely full. Finally his father decided it was time to start interrogating instead of just keeping things to neutral topics like the weather and traffic in the area.

“What made you decide to keep my son, here?” Noah asked, gesturing to Stiles, “He's known to make a nuisance of himself, after all. Especially when he's trying to.”

“He's mine,” Derek stated, stiff and succinct.

“Yeah, I got that-”

“I didn't have to invite you here,” Derek waved his drink at Noah dramatically, spilling it across the white couch. Stiles winced.

“No, and for that I'm thankful, but-”

“More thankful than your asshole son!” Derek declared, pushing onto unsteady feet, “For the record... you're not going to drink like this regularly. Stiles doesn't like your drinking. Your liver is... bad now... Only doing this because you're new here and I hate everything.”

Stiles snorted. They _really_ did have a lot in common, he had to acknowledge that. Stiles also hated everything. Some days more than others.

“Sure,” Noah nodded, “But why keep him? Why not just send him home with me? He _wants_ to go home. Custody's not so bad for a working man, you know.”

“He's got my _cub_ in him,” Derek pointed out, “And he's fucking helpless and you've got a fucked up leg. Whatamigonnado,” Derek slurred, “Just hope my kid's okay? That money won't be enough. It's not enough to raise a kid _and_ take care of _your_ sorry ass.”

“Cold,” Stiles stage whispered, slurping from his frothy bowl.

“You could give him... more,” Noah pointed out, gesturing to his nice place.

“No,” Derek shook his head, “I want my cub. I wanted a mate and several cubs, but I'll settle for a room mate and one cub.”

“ _One_ cub?” Stiles asked in surprise.

Derek gave him a blurry glare and made a snipping motion in the air, causing him to drop his beer, “Not make you have more. Gonna... Snippity snip snip snip.”

Stiles snorted at his words and got up to retrieve the beer bottle that was emptying out onto his rug, “Well, I'm not going to argue against having only one, but maybe we should see how the first goes. On that note, we need to get furniture and carpets that aren't white if we-”

Derek grabbed Stiles' upper arm, stopping him and jerking him upright so their eyes met.

“Derek,” Noah's voice was hard and cold, “You're gonna want to let him go.”

“Know what you're doing,” Derek stated, “Won't happen again.”

“Picking up after you? Would that were true,” Stiles teased.

“Getting me _drunk_ ,” Derek stated, “I'm not stupid, Stiles. I let you 'cause it makes it... easier... talking. I'm not so good at it. You are. I'm... I'm going to be a good father.”

Stiles' eyes softened, “I think you will, yeah.”

“Not going to let you hurt my cub.”

Stiles felt his stomach swoop at the information that his father had provided, “I will never, ever, ever hurt your cub. Ever. Please believe that, Derek, I will _never_ hurt our cub. I won't be a perfect parent, but I'm going to do my damnedest to be a good one. Just because it wasn't what I really wanted to do with my life doesn't mean I won't give it my _everything_.”

Derek let Stiles' arm go, giving him a sad look, “Didn't have a choice.”

“No,” Stiles shook his head sadly, “I guess I didn't.”

“Society is... it's fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“My sister's a bitch.”

“Okay, that was an unexpected twist, but I'm not going to deny it.”

“Cora's gonna be a lawyer. She fights the whole...” Derek waved vaguely, “Good fight.”

“She's a SJW?”

“That thing, yeah. She wants me to let you go.”

“You going to?” Stiles asked.

“No.”

“You could,” Stiles pressed, desperate, “We could make an arrangement. Something different from what others do. Make it legal and everything. You get to visit and-”

“You're _my mate_ ,” Derek insisted.

“You can't keep me this way,” Stiles shook his head, “I mean, you can. You can keep me physically here, you can keep our cubs, but you can't _make_ me your mate. It doesn't work that way. You keep me by force I'll hate you.”

“I let you go you won't come back.”

Stiles shrugged, “It's kinda too late for either option, to be honest. I already know you _are_ willing to keep me against my will- which is legally your right- and that would stop me from coming back even if I wanted to.”

“S'we're fucked. You and me.”

“We're fucked,” Stiles nodded.

“I'm going to bed,” Derek decided, and staggered his way to the bedroom.

“I hope he doesn't puke in the bed,” Stiles sighed.

“Does he make you stay in his room?” Noah asked darkly.

“No,” Stiles admitted, but didn't explain that he was drawn to him still.

“Well, from now on you're bunking with me,” Noah announced, “That room have a big enough bed for two? Or can we put a second small one in?”

“It's got a queen, we ca n share it.”

“Good,” Noah stood up, “I'm turning in. I'm beat from the flight. You okay cleaning up out here? I can do it tomorrow.”

“Nah, go to bed,” Stiles waved him off, “I'll take care of it. Get some rest old man.”

Stiles was embarrassed by the fact he still wanted Derek so much, even if it was mainly focused on his scent and presence rather than simple lust. His father didn't understand at all. How could he when Stiles was freaking out and telling anyone who would listen that he wanted to get the hell out of there a few days before? The problem was that Stiles had become isolated after puberty and that made an Omega touch starved. Omegas were treated like everyone else until they hit adolescence, and then it was a very sudden and abrupt change. Due to their constant arousal around alphas they were isolated to protect them from rape and avoid them going ass up for everyone they met. In reality both genders had _far_ more control than they were given credit for, but society made them out to be animals. So Stiles hadn't seen many alphas once his body had woken up; just the occasional person at the stores with his dad and Scott when their parents found they couldn't keep the two apart. They'd hoped they would mate, but Stiles and Scott had zero interest in each other. They were like brothers rather than mates.

Scott's father had dumped Melissa after a month and left her with the stipend she'd needed to survive, which had given Stiles the idea to do the same. Stiles had ignored Melissa's pleas not to. She'd told him again and again that the intimacy he'd experience would be hard to separate from; that omegas were meant to be kept. He'd written her off as old fashioned and sexist. Scott's dad hadn't even been _nice_ to Melissa. He barely visited, only sent them the bare minimum of funds to get by. Now Stiles understood. There was a sick sort of pull going on between them and Stiles hated how much he disliked sleeping away from Derek. It had to be hormonal. Chemical. Something to do with the way their bodies were designed, because it sure as hell wasn't Stiles' mind allowing those thoughts.

No matter how much Derek was kind or funny or supportive. Or wanted his cubs more than life itself, he'd still taken away Stiles' only shot at freedom. That was unforgivable.

The problem was, Stiles didn't really _know_ him. He knew what kinds of movies he liked. He knew that the guy had a dry, sardonic sense of humor. He knew that Derek was a petty bastard, just like Stiles was. He also knew that he wanted a family desperately enough to go against his basic principals and keep Stiles against his will. He had a legal right to do so, but Stiles wasn't the kind of guy who could accept fate easily.

So Stiles had a choice: be justifiably angry and sour their future before it began or find a way to make peace with it and understand that Derek was traumatized and afraid. Stiles could understand him forcing him to stay, but what about the way he'd be treated from day to day? Derek talked about education, but he also wanted Stiles to stay in New York with him. Stiles wanted to know what his life would be like and if in three years he had to leave his child to regain his freedom and have the bite Derek had given him chemically removed...

Stiles glanced into the guest room which would be his father's room, listened to him snore and breathed in his familiar and comforting scent of home that clung to him and his belongings. It had been his comfort for eighteen years, but it was no longer his future. Then he turned and slipped into the master suite with the harsher scent of the alpha who had claimed him as his own. Stiles stripped, slid into the bed, and cuddled up against Derek's toasty body. The alpha rolled onto his side, grumbled, and rubbed his scruff against the back of Stiles' neck. He'd be miserable in the morning, but Stiles already knew he'd sleep better with Stiles there... and so would Stiles.


	10. Chapter 10

Derek stayed home the next day, not only to nurse his hangover, but to get Stiles' father settled in. The ex-sheriff's things were being moved in that day and Isaac had returned to move back into his room as well. They were joined by Erica and Boyd for the heavy lifting. Erica was still cold towards Stiles and Boyd was impossible to read. None of them marked Stiles as pack, despite him putting himself in their path repeatedly. They packed Stiles' father into his room, moving in the things that Derek had paid to have overnighted in. His favorite chair would be arriving by moving van in a week along with a few necessaries that his father needed to make the place feel like home such as boxes of pictures and books.

Stiles helped his father unpack, but was quickly overwhelmed by the reality of the situation when he opened the weirdest shaped package to find that the tube was packed with the posters from his childhood bedroom wall. Stiles sank to the floor and broke down, angry at himself for ending up in the situation he'd found himself in and for crying _yet again_. Noah sat down on the bed and put a hand on Stiles' head, ruffling his hair.

“It'll be okay, kiddo,” Noah soothed, “I know it's not home, but we'll deck this place out and you'll get used to it. We'll be a family, even if it's not the one you wanted. Even if we're not... well, maybe in time I can warm up to your new alpha and we can merge packs. That's a _big maybe_.”

  
“I know,” Stiles sniffled, “It's gotta be weird, this sort of thing. We're meant to leave our families, not drag them along.”

A knock made Stiles jump and he looked up to see Derek standing in the doorway frowning, “I heard crying.”

“Yeah, the moodiness is starting early,” Stiles choked out.

“Give us a moment,” Noah growled irritably, eyes flashing gold.

Derek's eyes answered and for a moment Stiles' breath caught in fear. If they fought Derek would win. His father had no shot in hell with a bad leg and age against him. However, Derek ignored him as if he were a complete non-threat and stepped into the room to pick up the partially unfurled poster that Stiles was holding in his hands.

“Is that Gundam Wing?”

Stiles nodded weakly.

“Upstairs den or bedroom?” Derek asked him.

Stiles looked up hopefully, but Noah spoke again sharply.

“They're for _his_ room,” Noah snapped, “Which you'll let him sleep in from now on.”

Derek continued to ignore him as if he weren't in the room, pulling out the rest of the posters and smiling at them. It was a _real smile._ Derek had enjoyed the Marvel movies Stiles had introduced him to between mating frenzies. Now he crouched down beside Stiles on the floor and started separating his posters into piles. Den. Bedroom. One for the bathroom. Stiles' personality would be spread throughout the apartment. Noah watched with a scowl on his face as Stiles began to hope just a little, and didn't comment again when Stiles took the things his father had packed for him out of the guest... _Noah's_... bedroom.

XXX

The weekend rolled around with little fanfare. Stiles and his father spent their time watching movies, reading, and talking about Stiles' health through his pregnancy. It flew by and before he knew it the truck arrived with the rest of their things. This time Stiles wasn't shocked to find his things on the cart. He added his treadmill to Derek's weight room with the alpha and Isaac carrying it upstairs for his clumsy ass.

Stiles sighed at the sight of it, running his hand over the torn padding of the handrails that he'd put colorful tape over as a teenager, “Yep, there it is. The key to my slender body after they put bars on my window when I presented.”

“Well, it couldn't be your diet,” Stiles' father snarked from downstairs.

“Hey, I eat okay!” Stiles argued, laughing as he leaned over the edge to look down at the living room.

Derek grabbed Stiles' shoulder and pulled him back, looking decidedly pale, “Isaac, get this thing boarded up!”

Isaac nodded, apparently not bothered by _Derek_ yelling the way he had been by Stiles' shouting. He whipped out his phone and started asking Derek what sort of railing he wanted over the mezanine to replace the thin metal lengths that were honestly terrifying to stand beside. Stiles immediately stepped in with a scowl on his face.

“Look, you can't just put up new rails. We're going to have a _baby_ around here. There needs to be protection from little chubby legs getting stuck in between and toys flying down into the stove below. I've seen people who use clear plastic panels on balconies. It's cheap, but it's also waaaay more effective than a new rail. Just clip it on with zip ties and move on. There's _so much_ baby proofing to do. Don't make this area a bigger project than it needs to be.”

Isaac was nodding, eyes excited at the easy solution, “What about kiddie gates?”

“We definitely need them,” Stiles nodded, “Not just at the top, but at the bottom as well. These stairs aren't safe for toddlers.”

“They're not safe for _you_ ,” Isaac teased.

Stiles laughed easily and nodded, “We should-”

Stiles was interrupted by Derek snatching him against himself and kissing him thoroughly, leaving Stiles breathless and dangling in his arms.

“Wh-what was that for?” Stiles breathed, gazing up at him once the kiss ended.

Derek didn't reply. He just let Stiles go once he'd found his footing and walked towards the den area with a slow breath. Book shelves divided the library from the weight area and den, and another from Derek's office. The den would likely be the only space Stiles would be spending time in with a baby, the library being full of beautifully drool-free books and the weight room and office off limits. Stiles pointed that out to Isaac and said that for starters they'd put a big circular baby gate in the den, possibly removing the coffee table until their cub was older. Since the den and weight room were not divided by a shelf they'd need to either put one in and make the space feel smaller or keep the gate up for quite long.

“Stiles, do you want the crib downstairs or upstairs?” Derek wondered as he looked around the den with a frown.

Stiles grimaced as Derek pointed to the entertainment space downstairs with the fancy furniture and cold atmosphere, “You're planning on making the loft the cub's room?”

“With gates,” Derek stated, “I thought we could get rid of the exercise room and just get gym memberships. They have childcare so we could use that as a break for the kid and so they can socialize.”

Stiles shook his head, “Not a bad idea, but I'm not sure about right away. I'd want the crib in our room for the first few months so I can roll over and nurse as needed.”

“You're going to nurse?” Derek blinked in surprise.

“Is that a problem?” Stiles folded his arms and glared.

“No,” Derek's eyebrows rose, “I just didn't think... A nursing bassinet, then?”

Stiles' eyes widened, “I forgot we can afford extra things like that.”

“You can have any baby gear you want,” Derek replied, “I'll give you my credit card. Order whatever you want.”

“Where's the furniture when I need to sit down?” Stiles pretended to wheeze. Derek looked like he wanted to steady him but kept his hands to himself this time, “Yeah. Okay. A nursing co-sleep bassinet. Um... until they're moving about a bit and then a crib. Then... wow... upstairs, I guess? It would give us more privacy but be further to walk.”

“I could stay upstairs,” Noah suggested.

“I don't want you climbing those stairs, dad,” Stiles frowned.

“Son,” Noah laughed, “What you don't want is a cub listening in on you trying to watch TV after bedtime or throwing things down at guests when Derek has his fancy parties downstairs. Trust me. Don't make it _easier_ for them to ask for water every five minutes until they collapse after fighting sleep for hours on end. Put the kid in a room you can shut the door to. If the boys here can get furniture up and down that deadly staircase without dying than I can manage it on two feet.”

“We can always put a lift in,” Isaac suggested, “Something along the wall by the stairway, perhaps? The other penthouse has one.”

Derek frowned, “Maybe my sister will switch with us. It has more rooms than this one does.”

“Erica and Boyd are _not_ going to give up their rooms,” Isaac chuckled.

“There's another penthouse?” Stiles asked.

“Laura and her mates live in the penthouse above us,” Derek replied, “It has skylights and more rooms, but less space to spread out. No loft. Just a second floor and a raised ceiling.”

Stiles frowned, “It would be better for a place with kids.”

“That's why Laura took it. She has kids. It's my building though so I can kick her out and she can find someplace else to-”

“No!” Stiles gaped, “It's important you keep your family close. We're not kicking them out! Also you'd better introduce me to your nieces and nephews and other omegas in the building. I'm not enjoying being isolated here.”

Derek was silent a moment and then glanced at Noah. Stiles watched him connect the dots, realize that Stiles knew about his past, and then move on after a dramatic eye roll.

“So what do you _want?_ ”Derek snapped irritably.

“Dad's right. Him upstairs, cub downstairs, but there's no reason to do it now. Wait till our baby is weened. That won't be for at least half a year. Dad can finish his physical therapy in the mean time and have time to move.”

“Or I could move out,” Isaac suggested, sounding vulnerable.

“No,” Derek and Stiles both stated firmly.

Stiles blushed and Derek lifted his chin, proud of his omega for keeping his beta close and content.

“Okay,” Noah nodded, “That's good. If I'm down here with you two during the newborn phase I can relieve Stiles when the baby doesn't sleep for days on end.”

“But all babies do is eat, sleep, and poop,” Stiles stated.

Derek and Noah both gave him a worried look and Stiles' eyes widened, “Isn't that all they do?”

“No,” Isaac whispered, eyes wide with horror, “They cry. So, so much.”

“Okay,” Stiles huffed, “Good to know. Yeah, there might be times Derek takes the couch and dad helps me through the night, then. Or Isaac does. Or... wait, do you work?”

“I work from home,” Isaac explained, “Data work.”

“Oh, okay,” Stiles nodded, “So we need to not wake you up either.”

“I'll help when I'm off work to give you a break,” Derek told him, “I'm going to be involved. Even with a baby.”

Stiles smiled softly, “I'd be shocked if you weren't.”

Derek nodded and he Stiles got to ordering things for the baby proofing and nursery in the bedroom. Derek ordered covers for the furniture that was in their bedroom to protect it for the brief time that the baby would be in the bedroom with them. Stiles would be able to nurse and relax in the bedroom or upstairs den without worrying about dirtying things. The word 'nesting' was whispered but Isaac scoffed and hissed 'shopping' and returned to his rooms. Still without scent-marking Stiles. His father had taken notice now. He was worried.

Derek passed Stiles his iPad and his credit card and walked away, just trusting him with probably an unlimited amount of money and internet access.

“Oh my gods and goddesses,” Stiles whispered.

“Stiles,” Noah warned.

“Shhh, I deserve this,” Stiles whispered, and slunk off to the library to sip water from a flute glass and buy himself anything he wanted.

He ordered himself maternity clothes with Marvel and DC characters all over them. He wanted to buy himself new shoes, but who knew what shoe size he'd be in ten months? He got slippers instead. Nice, fluffy slippers with REM images on them. What he failed to buy were things for the baby, which he figured he didn't really need anyway.

Derek called for take-out for dinner and Stiles found himself gorging on pizza, moaning in bliss at the familiar flavors. Healthy stir fry and Kobe beef steaks were great most days, but sometimes one just needed pizza, cheese steaks, and lo mein. Stiles fell asleep on the couch and woke up in his mate's bed, with one of Derek's hands resting on his abdomen protectively.


	11. Chapter 11

“It's okay?” Stiles asked, running his hands down his suit front.

“It's fine,” Derek glanced at him, “It's a casual restaurant.”

“So I don't need to wear a suit?” Stiles asked.

Derek raised an eyebrow, “You don't need to wear a _nice_ suit. Of course you need to wear a suit.”

“Do you own any t-shirts?” Stiles asked, eyes narrowing.

“You know I do,” Derek replied blandly.

“You own white t-shirts, which you wear under your suit shirts or for exercising, but do you own _comfort_ t-shirts.”

“All t-shirts are comfortable,” Derek replied, straightening his tie.

“I didn't say comfortable, I said _comfort_. As in, the kind you wear to feel good. With maybe a favorite band on it? Who even is your favorite band? Bach? Mozart?”

“Those are composers,” Derek scoffed.

“That sounded like a confession.”

“Nirvana,” Derek replied, “Stone Temple Pilots. Twin Temple. A few others.”

“Nice,” Stiles nodded, “I'm not familiar with Twin Temple.”

“They're a Satanic Doo-wop band,” Derek blushed a bit.

Stiles cackled, “Oh my gosh, I never expected to hear those words from your mouth! Awesome! Now I gotta google them!”

“I'll play an album on the way to the restaurant,” Derek put a hand on the back of Stiles' lower back and guided him towards the door.

They rode in silence, listening to the haunting voice of Twin Temple while Stiles bopped his head and smiled at the sight of the city rushing past. Bright lights and tall buildings were overwhelming for the omega raised in the suburbs, but he was keen to take it all in. They were going to dinner and then a Broadway play and Stiles was an anxious wreck. Not only was it the first time he was leaving the flat outside of stepping on the balconies, he was going out with Derek's sisters and their mates.

They met at a 'casual' restaurant that had a dress shirt and tie restriction, so Stiles was already fed up with the rich fuckery before he even met them. Casual meant jeans and t-shirts, damn it! He'd been briefly introduced to Cora and Laura, but on one occasion he'd had his eyes shut and on the other he'd been an emotional train wreck. So seeing them again was embarrassing at the very least, never mind the fact that Stiles' tie was outdated and his suit was second hand and a bit too big. Meanwhile, Derek looked dramatically handsome in his black suit, crisp white shirt, and slender black tie. He looked like a _god_ and Stiles felt like a monster.

Cora was already seated, but she stood when Derek and Stiles arrived, like a polite alpha greeting an omega at table, and pecked a kiss to both their cheeks. She looked like an elven princess in a light green evening gown with pink flowers and green leaves in lace overlay. Her date was a beautiful young blonde woman dressed in a tight, emerald green, satin dress who met Derek's eyes without an ounce of shyness. Stiles thought she might be a beta, but she smelled vaguelly of alpha. She was introduced as Derek's business partner and friend, Lydia Martin. Apparently she was courting Cora and Derek and Laura had allowed it despite the age gap. Lydia made tripe jokes throughout dinner about them being kept an eye on, so apparently chaperones were required.

Laura arrived fashionably late with a mate on each arm. Stiles gaped to see it was none other than _Erica and Boyd_. He'd had no idea. They'd played him for a fool as he'd not even realized they were both omegas, let alone _Laura's_ omegas _!_ No wonder his elder sister lived in his building if Derek's packmates were his sister's bond mates. The way Boyd and Erica looked at each other... Stiles had a feeling this was more of a triad than a harem. Then Laura sat down and he watched the two omegas look at each other while Laura seemed oblivious to their presence and it clicked. They wore her claim, which changed their scent to be less desirable and made them smell like betas. It allowed them to work, to move about freely, and apparently... to be in what would otherwise be considered a _barely_ legal omega/omega relationship.

They'd found a way.

They'd _escaped the omega trap_. Laura wasn't either or both their mates. They were each other's mates. Laura was their _beard_.

“What's wrong?” Derek whispered, eyes narrowed.

Stiles unclenched the butter knife he'd gripped and did his best to stop hating the pair. It wasn't their fault that Stiles had ended up where he was while they had found an alpha who would accommodate them. Perhaps Laura was gay herself and only attracted to alphas like Cora was, something that was more allowed but still heavily frowned upon. Or perhaps she was asexual. Or perhaps an amazing friend who gave them an out and was willing to date on the side until she found her own mate and added them to the harem. Whatever the truth, Stiles should be happy for them. He took a deep breath and forced on a smile and did his best to be polite throughout the meal.

Derek ordered for him since the menu was in Italian and the result was absolutely delicious. Stiles was being spoiled rotten by him and he could see how many omegas would be swayed by this royal treatment, but Stiles just wanted to build a bond with the man who he was living with. He had three years to decide if Derek was worth staying with or so awful he had to give up his cub to gain his freedom. He wanted that decision to be based on reality, not flattery or his own emotional devastation at his plan having backfired. Or the guys abs, which were honestly _umph._

The Broadway play after was beautiful, fun, and engaging. Stiles barely noticed Derek sitting beside him throughout it, and the man was silent afterwards while his sisters, Stiles, and their mates chattered about the gorgeous show. Lydia, Cora's alpha date, was an outspoken and proud woman who easily provided a deeper interpretation of the show and made them all feel ignorant. Stiles tried to put a few things to thought, but the group tended to talk over him or ignore him. Stiles felt a bit out of place and hoped it was just because he was new, but it was jarring that they still hadn't _scent marked him_. Finally they split up into their own cars, and Stiles was left humming and tracing marks on the window while Derek drove them home.

“I liked seeing you enjoy the show.”

“Did you watch the show or me?” Stiles laughed.

There was a solid ten minutes of silence in which Stiles started looking at the sights again and nearly forgot he'd asked a question before his alpha spoke up at last.

“You.”


	12. Chapter 12

Taking Stiles out for a dinner and a show was like opening a floodgate. He'd known on a logical level that having a claiming bite meant that he would smell less desirable to strange alphas, and that when he wasn't on heat he'd be free to leave the house barring he were stuck with an overbearing alpha, but he hadn't really _processed it_. He now, like Erica and Boyd, smelled more like a beta or perhaps someone difficult to scent out. He hadn't been free to leave his home alone since he was a pre-teen. Those awkward few years between not-old-enough to be alone on the streets and having emerged as an omega had been brief. Then Stiles had been confined to his home, bars on the windows and latches on the doors, inside unless either Scott or his father took him out. Scott was at school most of the time and his father at work, so Stiles' first solo venture out of the house in nearly six years had been to a temple to get himself mounted.

Stiles was so used to being locked up or escorted that the idea of freedom had almost been frightening, something to avoid even thinking about, but now that he'd been out of the loft once he found himself longing for it. He stood on the balcony and stared out at the world around him in longing. The warmer clothes he'd ordered with Derek's credit card had arrived and Stiles had no excuse to delay. He took the elevator to the first floor, and stood in the lobby for a solid twenty minutes just staring out the big glass double doors. There was a security person at the door who he was pretty sure called Derek, but no one came to get him or stop him. Stiles was starting to sweat in his heavy coat so he let out a slow breath and walked slowly to the door, pushed it open, and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

It was cold as fuck. The air smelled metallic and thin. Stiles looked all around himself at the people passing by as if he were invisible and the towering skyscrapers that made him dizzy to look directly up at. He had no idea where he could go so he started looking around himself curiously. He was hoping there was a deli or a cafe within sight to make it an easy first trip out. Stiles' heart was pounding in his chest and he didn't see anything, which made him consider rushing back inside and hiding out for another week or so.

“Steady, Stiles,” Stiles whispered to himself, “You got this, buddy. Okay. Just... google something.”

Stiles typed 'cafe' into his phone and came up with one two blocks over. It was within walking distance. Stiles could manage that. He still had Derek's credit card- which he suspected was actually meant for him or perhaps a second card he didn't use often- so he could get a muffin or something.

One moment Stiles was looking at his phone and reading street names and the second the phone was gone. Yanked right out of his hand. The person who had snatched it was already out of sight, having ducked into a crowd of people before Stiles could even respond.

“HEY! THEY TOOK MY PHONE!” Stiles shouted, pointing at them angrily.

They kept going. So did the crowd. Not a single person reacted. No one even _looked_. No 'rescue the omega' happening here like in the movies. Stiles had no chance of chasing the person down on his own because his anxiety-induced delay in reacting had given them a colossal head start. Despite Stiles' jokes about staying thin on the treadmill he was actually not a great runner, and he wasn't familiar with the city. He pictured the thief dodging through back alleys like Sherlock Holmes and just... gave up. Stiles gave the direction of the cafe a mournful glance and turned back to the door to pull on it... and pull on it... and...

“Fuck,” Stiles announced.

He was locked out. The building had some sort of security access lock and a glance in showed he security desk empty. Stiles could see a card swipe box on the side of the door which presumably opened it for anyone working inside the building. He also saw a list of names of departments one could buzz from outside, but none of them said 'Derek' or 'Hale'. Apparently the building held more than Derek's business alone, which made sense for such a huge place. Probably Laura's was here. With a dawning sense of disgust Stiles realized that he didn't even know the name of Derek's business. He hadn't _researched_. How the hell had he not done that?! He'd just assumed it would be called Hale Industries, but perhaps he'd chosen a less ostentatious name.

“Okay,” Stiles breathed, “I can hit buttons until I find someone who knows I exist, or buzzes me in out of annoyance, I can wait for the security guard to get back from break, or I can suck it up and go to the fucking cafe like I planned. It's not far. I got this. I got this.”

Stiles turned with a slow breath and started walking towards the cafe. After a block he was convinced he was overreacting. It wasn't _that bad_. Yeah, he'd gotten his phone stolen, but he'd also had it out in his hand like a fucking flag. He was going to be _fine._ He just had to keep his hand on his wallet and his head up. Use that ADHD multitasking skill to keep himself aware of his surroundings.

Stiles stepped into the cafe and let out a breath of relief. It was warm and smelled of familiar things like coffee and cinnamon. Anxiety rolled away in the face of getting a cup of coffee. He walked up to the register, ordered a black coffee like his dad always got, paid while keeping his wallet _very_ close to his body, and then waited for the life-saving brew. He added a packet of sugar himself. He never trusted people with his coffee prep.

Stiles sat down and smiled around himself only to realize he was getting quite a few disconcerted stares over the tops of tablets, phones, and the occasional laptop. He probably looked like a nutter sitting by himself _and_ not being on a device. He didn't even have a paper to read and it didn't look like the cafe sold anything. Stiles probably smelled like anxiety and fear, too. He redirected his gaze to his coffee and kept his head down.

After about ten minutes someone approached the table and Stiles glanced up to see someone he assumed was an alpha based on scent. They were musky, which usually meant alpha, but could also be a beta. Stiles frowned up at the stranger as he gave him a smarmy grin and slid into the chair across from him.

“Hey,” He replied in a deep and smooth voice, “You look lost, princess.”

“Wow. Nope. I'm fine. If I needed help it wouldn't be from someone who calls me _princess_ upon first meeting me.”

The guy's pretty face morphed into one of disgust and confusion, “What did you just say? Who even says _upon_?”

“The person upon whom you are hitting on,” Stiles replied, “No, yeah, I heard it that time. That was awful.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Someone stole my phone,” Stiles replied, his ADHD providing him with the reason people had been looking at him as if he were an alien earlier.

“I meant,” The guy replied sharply, not bothered by the theft, “Why are you sitting here smelling lonely and turning me away?”

“Because you're a douche bag,” Stiles replied immediately.

They guy stared at him expectantly. Apparently he was aware of his douchy status and not aware that it was a colossal turn off.

“You're not my type,” Stiles stated slowly and with a lot of emphasis.

The guys' eyes narrowed threateningly and he stood up slowly, leaning into Stiles' space, “I'm _everyone's_ type.”

“Ew,” Stiles whispered, staring at him in horror, “No. Just... no.”

“Ahem,” Someone articulated, actually _saying the word_.

Stiles and Douche Canoe turned to stare at Boyd, who was looking imposing and offended by McDouche's general presence.

“Oh, hey Boyd. I guess I was followed. Cool. You couldn't have popped up when I was locked out of the building? Or my phone was stolen? Or brought a newspaper?”

Boyd might have been an omega, but he didn't look like one, and since he had mated he didn't really _smell_ like one. Douche Nuggets glanced at him, rolled his eyes, and walked away without another word as if Stiles wasn't worth his time. Boyd gave him an amused glance and held up his coffee.

“I was already here getting a coffee, not following you. I'm not your babysitter.”

“Oh,” Stiles grinned, “Is this, like, your hang out? Do you come here often? I didn't realize.”

“Well,” Boyd sipped his coffee, “I would have told you but it didn't occur to me, seeing as how we're not pack.”

“Oh, right,” Stiles blinked, “I mean, it's not like I'm mated to your alpha or anything.”

“ _One_ of my alphas, who you have made it clear you don't actually want.”

“So then why...” Stiles gestured at where Douche-Dude was exiting the cafe.

“Being a decent guy means I don't let you get abducted and raped,” He stated, “It doesn't mean I like you. Maybe try not leaving the house smelling like desperation.”

Boyd walked to the door, tossing out his cup along the way, and left Stiles sitting in the cafe feeling like an even bigger loser. Stiles sighed heavily and left as well, walking slowly back towards Derek's building. He was deep in thought when he arrived, but shook himself out of it to hit a few buttons and try to get into the building. The first two didn't answer at all. The third buzzed him the second he sputtered out: “Hi, I'm Derek Hale's mate...” The second set of doors were unlocked so he breezed in past the empty security guard station, ignoring shouting in the distance where the guard seemed to be arguing with someone, and onto the elevator. He hit the second to highest floor button, recalling Laura and Cora were on the top floor, and then frowned. That didn't seem like Derek's level of paranoid security. The elevator essentially opened into the actual apartment with just a second door, the passage to which acted as a coat closet.

Stiles looked around again and saw a pair of key holes below the number pad. Each was marked with the letter P and a number. Penthouse one and two. Stiles needed a key to get home. Stiles did _not_ have a key.

Stiles groaned and banged his head on the doors to the elevator just as it stopped and started to open. He jerked backwards, flailing his arms dramatically, and righted himself just as a man in a suit stepped forward and blocked the elevator door with a meaty hand.

“Did you find him?” The guy asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Find... who?” Stiles asked, baffled, getting a glimpse of an office behind the stranger. People were rushing around looking frustrated and angry.

“Mr. Hale's mate?! How do you not know? The whole building is looking for him! The police are on every floor!”

“Oh, that's not good,” Stiles stage whispered, eyes widening. Boyd couldn't have told Derek where he was?

“He's about this tall,” The guy held up a hand about a foot shorter than Stiles, “Has 'vivid amber eyes', hair styled like a boy band, is round with child, and wears nighties all the time.”

Stiles' expression must have been priceless; and offensive, based on the guy's offended and furious glare. Stiles was laughing so hard he couldn't even understand what the man was sputtering and shouting at him. Of course, at that moment the doors he'd been blocking tried to shut and re-opened on a cop headed over to see what the commotion was about. He held up an _actual_ photo and motioned Stiles out of the elevator. Stiles stepped out and let the officer lead him away while still wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oh my gosh. Nighties!” Stiles laughed as he was passed over to a ruffled and distressed looking Derek, “You told them I wear nighties all day?! I'm not even showing yet, but _round with child?_ Not to mention _vivid amber eyes_? That sounded like a quote. Tell me you think my eyes are pretty. Say it. I dare you. _Say it._ ”

“Your eyes are pretty,” Derek stated dryly, and then smacked the back of Stiles' head, sobering him up quickly, “What the hell do you think you were doing leaving without telling me? Did you even take a _key_? I know you don't have a badge because I haven't issued you one!”

“Um, no, no key or badge,” Stiles replied, face heating up as embarrassment kicked in. He was being chewed out in front of Derek's co-workers. A dozen people in suits with pissed looks on their faces were just _staring at him_. Great. He was officially the idiotic omega who interrupted work by getting _robbed_ on his first trip out!

“You're _pregnant_ Stiles! With my cub! I know they don't mean anything to you, but-”

“I'M NOT FUCKING KATE ARGENT!” Stiles shouted, rage welling up the second the same damn accusation got thrown his way again, “I _do_ care about our cub! OUR cub. OURS. Not just yours! OURS! Stop fucking saying I don't! I never said I didn't! And don't tell people I'm short!”  
  


“What?” Derek blinked rapidly at him, looking for all the world as if Stiles had slugged him. Vulnerable. _Exposed._

“I have spent my _entire life_ being escorted around by people or locked up in houses with bars on windows,” Stiles snapped, not able to stop now that he'd started, “I just went for a walk to the nearby cafe to get a cup of coffee. You didn't have to call out a Brute Squad. Yeah, I was unprepared, but life has _literally_ left me that way. You could have given me a damn card and told me where the keys were and how to use them at any point, but just like everyone else you assume I'm a fucking bird singing in a cage and happy to stay there! I. Want. Out! I want out, Derek! I want to walk to a fucking park and sit on a bench! I want to know how to take our kid to a playground someday! I want to go to school! And go shopping in an actual store! And join a... I dunno... book club or whatever rich mates do! I want _freedom!_ You know I do!”

“Okay, okay,” Derek had his hands up and was trying to _placate him_ , but that only added fuel to the fire.

Stiles slapped at his hands angrily, “Fuck you, Derek Hale! I didn't want this! I didn't want _any_ of this, but the least you could do is let me take a fucking walk!”

“I'll get you a badge,” Derek stated, “Just tell me when you're leaving the-”

“NO!”

“Boyd said you were robbed, Stiles,” Derek huffed, eyes narrowing, “Freedom is one thing, but you're painfully naive and you need to learn how to handle yourself in a city. I'll teach you so you're good to go alone. Until then you _tell me where you're going_ so I know you're safe. _Got_ it?”

Stiles wrapped his arms around himself, embarrassed again, “Fine.”

Derek pulled his keys out of his pocket and guided Stiles to the elevator with a hand on his lower back, “P1 on the elevator.”

“Yeah, I guessed that much.”

Back in the penthouse Stiles threw himself face-first down on the couch and groaned miserably. His father's door opened and the man limped out, saw Stiles on the couch, and snorted.

“What did you do?”

“Left the penthouse alone, got mugged, got a coffee, got locked out, got yelled at, yelled back, got told off, got returned to my gilded cage. You?”

“Slept in for the first time in years. Felt damn nice. I like having you safe, kiddo. Next time you leave the place plan ahead, okay?” Noah ruffled Stiles' hair, “Or I won't get to sleep in again.”

“You can sleep in, damn it, I'm fine,” Stiles struggled to sit upright, “I just got my phone stolen, that's all.”

“Oh, is that all?” Noah huffed.

“Derek says he'll teach me to be independent, so stop worrying. It's bad for your blood pressure. If you didn't know I was gone, how did Derek find out?”

“I'm assuming he came up for lunch and found you gone, or maybe Isaac told him you left.”

“He was searching the building,” Stiles frowned, “But he said Boyd told him that I got mugged. That was out on the street in front of the building. Why are alphas so dumb?”

“The police always start close to home for a pregnant omega. They would have assumed you'd left the loft to nest. Omegas who don't feel safe when pregnant are known to sneak out to find a place to nest, but they never go far because travel is also risky. They figured you were unlikely to still be at the cafe because you'd be hurrying home. They were going to clear the building before spreading out to search the city.”

Stiles frowned. Had he? No. No, he hadn't been looking for a place to nest. Which meant that he either hadn't reached that point- since he was _far_ from 'round with child'- or he felt safe at Casa De Hale. If anything, decorating the loft had been phase one of nesting for him. He'd started nagging Derek about his fancy ass furniture, which Stiles felt uncomfortable even sitting on, starting a few weeks in. That was likely his first surge of pregnancy hormones, his initial nesting need. Comfy couches. Very Stiles. Much nesting.

“I can't believe I'm _comfortable_ here.”

“I can,” Noah chuckled, “It's nice here. All the amenities. No fear of starving. I'm comfortable, too. Your alpha's got the good life, Stiles. This isn't bad, and I see the way he looks at you. He's rough around the edges, but he's a good guy. He doesn't hurt you, does he? I'm not missing something here, am I?”

“No,” Stiles groaned, “He'd never hurt me.”

“Stop sounding mad about that,” Noah laughed, “You want something to eat?”

“Sure.”

“Eggs?”

“It's eleven, dad.”

“Eggs or you cook.”

“Eggs.”

“Scrambled eggs, coming up.”

Stiles smiled as his dad puttered around the kitchen, making himself at home and otherwise looking like he belonged. Like they both belonged. Stiles knew he should be grateful for landing a rich _and_ kind alpha, but it felt like a whole lot of scary. It hadn't been his choice, and that made accepting it harder. If he'd met Derek out and about he'd have been into him, no doubt, and that was what kept Stiles pushing himself to be civil and make it work. Derek was a good guy, like his father had said. He was the father of Stiles' cub and they had to make things work between them or Stiles would have a very painful choice to make. With that thought in his head Stiles realized he'd really already made up his mind. He wasn't going to give up his cub for a life of freedom when life here was so much sweeter. Even if Derek and he didn't fall madly in love, he was a good man. He was going to have to actually dedicate himself to his relationship and find a way to make it work.

Now if only he could make Derek's pack see that so they'd accept him. The situation would get risky very fast if he couldn't bond with them.

“I'm glad you're here,” Stiles told him, “I'm sorry you had to leave our house.”

Noah glanced over with a small smile while whipping eggs in a bowl, “It's not our home without you in it, kiddo. This is home now. For as long as you decide it is. I gotta say though, now I've met him and know he's not mistreating you I'm hoping you stay. I would like to be in my grandkid's lives and I doubt he'd let you have partial custody. They guy's paranoid as hell.”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed, “Hearing I didn't want to be his mate triggered some serious trauma. Except the kid's on the way and I don't _hate_ him or something, I just didn't have this planned. It's like a beta getting pregnant by accident. Surprise! You get a lifetime of love!”

“You explain that to him?”

Stiles sank down in the couch, “No.”

“Maybe start there.”


	13. Chapter 13

“So I want us to start over. No more lies, half truths, or games from either of us. Honesty is the best policy. Our cub comes first. You and me, we make this _work,_ because I honestly want us to. I may not have wanted this particular life, but it's not awful. It's actually pretty awesome. So... do you get it now?” Stiles asked, rubbing his hands together and waiting for Derek to reply.

It had been a solid hour of Stiles babbling about his hopes, dreams, plans, babies, and regrets. He'd spelled it out in clear cut letters and damn it, Derek had just sat there and listened. He hadn't replied. Face hadn't even twitched. At one point Stiles had waved his hand in front of his face to make sure he wasn't sleeping with his eyes open and had gotten a frown for his efforts.

Now Derek finally met his eyes instead of staring off into the middle distance and Stiles started to worry if the guy had even been _present_. Maybe he'd dissociated through the whole conversation, just completely unable to have a discussion about their relationship and their cubs being wanted and loved due to his frankly _massive_ trauma.

“How did you know about Kate Argent?”

“Wh-what?” Stiles stalled.

“You mentioned Kate downstairs. How did you know about her?”

“You said some stuff while you were drunk. I got curious and asked my dad to do some digging,” Stiles admitted, determined to abide by his own policy, “I kinda thought that was obvious, actually. You seemed to have connected the dots. Gave me this look like you knew I knew.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“That's... it?”

Derek shrugged, “You were curious. It saves me from having to say it. Whatever questions you have about _that_ feel free to dig more up. Maybe don't assume things based on my facial expressions in the future?”

“No questions,” Stiles shook his head, “Not for you, and I doubt I could resist clawing her eyes out long enough to ask _her_ if I went to the prison to ask.”

Derek nodded and stood up, heading for the kitchen. He started food prep and Stiles' eyebrows rose. Wow. He was getting someone to cook for him twice in one day? Spoiled.

“What are the other businesses in the building? Do you own them?”

“Rent,” Derek stated, “My designs are pretty coveted but when I first started I didn't know if that would be the case so I had rental properties as a back up plan. I designed and built this building. It was my first project. Drained my bank account so it was a huge risk, but it payed off ten fold and got me started in the business. I rented out most of the spaces within, and those that aren't rented out have become displays. People liked the penthouse designs, and the idea of a building that was both business and residential. Not to mention the exterior.”

  
“It's shiny,” Stiles supplied.

Derek gave him a withering glare, “It's efficient. It uses solar panels on the roof and upper levels, has jump and fall safe balconies on the employee areas without the dreaded 'cage' feel, and the overall design is visually appealing. Each balcony on the employee lounge areas has large planters around the existing stone half-wall that houses slender trees or bamboo close enough together to provide safety and privacy while maintaining the highest green rating in the city... or it was until I built more of them. My building isn't so unique anymore, but I've got some new green ideas that will make this place obsolete.”

“That's the most enthusiastic I've ever heard you talk.”

“I give presentations for my work. Talking about work is easier for me.”

“Wooden bars instead of glass, metal, or plastic. Cool.”

“It is 'cool',” Derek agreed.

“Your balconies up here aren't like that?”

“I meant to do those here too, but we're so high up the trees don't feel right. The air does. I want to look out on the steel jungle instead. I never really thought I'd find a mate so I never thought I'd have to worry about wooden bars. I'll have to put them in, I suppose. Keep our cub safe.”

“Poetic, too,” Stiles smiled, “You're a lot smarter than some would take you for.”

“You're not as annoying as some would take _you_ for.”'

“Be still my heart,” Stiles laughed.

“Movie tonight? It's been... a while.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grinned, “We can turn off the hearing accessible features.”

“Thank fuck,” Derek groaned.


	14. Chapter 14

Derek, as it turned out, was absolutely gorgeous when exercising. Stiles had never had his eyes open before hand, so he had missed it when Derek had been upstairs bench pressing weights and doing pull ups while sweaty and delicious. Now that he was free to stare whenever he wanted he sat in a chair with a bowl of popcorn and slowly ate it while staring in awe at Derek's _muscles_. How had he ever thought this gorgeous specimen was an old man after his second omega?

“One more,” Stiles whispered when Derek got to the end of a set, “Just... one more. Push it, baby, work through the pain.”

Derek pushed another out with a groan and put the bar back on the cradle. He sat up, breathing hard and wiped off his face with a nearby towel. He glared at Stiles and shook his head in frustration.

“Could you not give me an erection- or a torn muscle- while I'm exercising?” Derek griped.

Stiles stuck his tongue into his popcorn bowl to frog-eat his snack, chewed it, swallowed, and replied: “No.”

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, “Any other instructions, coach?”

“Why?” Stiles smirked, “Do you like it when I give you orders?”

Derek... blushed. Actually he went _beet red_. Stiles sat up so fast he dumped his popcorn onto the floor, eyes going wide as his jaw dropped to the floor.

“Do you have a _kink_ you didn't tell me about?”

“No,” Derek tried weakly, “Could you not constantly make messes you never clean up?”

“Oh my goddess, _you do!”_ Stiles squealed, and fanned himself with his hands, “I have only read about this moment in sappy romance novels! Oh gosh, what do we do? It's called negotiation, right? We do kink negotiation?”

Derek stood up abruptly, eyes sharp and angry, “You don't order me. I order you.”

Derek stomped away and Stiles stared after him in shock for a moment before realization dawned on him, “Oh shit. That was a trauma reaction. I just triggered you. Okay.”

Stiles followed after Derek, taking a few deep breaths and trying to think of what to do or say. Derek was in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water into a cup of ice from the filter on the fridge. He took several long sips and stood staring at the fridge with his back to Stiles. He couldn't have looked more closed off and scared if he'd been crying on the floor. By Derek standards he was. Stiles stepped behind him and then recalled he might be reacting badly and backed up rather than touch his shoulders in support.

“I'm sorry, Derek,” Stiles spoke softly, “I respect you and I'd never purposely do something to upset you. I mean, I'm gonna be annoying for the rest of your life, but that's different than this. I didn't think before I spoke. Actually, now that I think of it: amendment to previous statement, I'm gonna talk before I think a _lot_ in our marriage, so you should probably be prepared to have this happen again. But I won't _mean to_ upset you. I respect you. I do.”

Derek turned and gave Stiles a fond smile, “Thank you. That... that really makes me feel better. I need a moment, okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded, “We're... okay?”

“I still need to apologize to you for what I said, but yes. Give me a moment.”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded, “Okay. Gonna go watch TV. You come see- you can come see me when you're ready.”

“Thank you,” Derek nodded.

Stiles went into their bedroom, figuring Derek needed the space to breathe. He flopped down on the couch, decided he wanted to stretch out, and went to their bed instead. He had nearly fallen asleep when Derek opened the door and stepped into their bedroom. He was freshly showered and had a towel over his shoulders. He hung it over the laundry basket and sat at the foot of the bed while Stiles rubbed at his eyes and sat up to blink at him tiredly.

“I'm sorry I said that sexist shit,” Derek stated.

“I'm sorry I triggered you,” Stiles replied.

Derek nodded, “I've got... problems. I've worked on them, and I'm going to keep working on them.”

“I'm _really_ glad to hear that,” Stiles stated.

“I don't want you to order me around in... in a mean way,” Derek tried.

“Oh wow, we're doing this,” Stiles sat up straighter, surprised and eager, “Okay. Yeah, no problem. Mean isn't really me anyway. Petty and catty, sure, but not mean.”

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes, “Just don't hurt me. I... I like flattery. I like being told I'm...”

Stiles filled in the silence, climbing up on his knees, “Sexy. Smart. _Godlike_.”

“Yeah,” Derek's cheeks turned pink again and Stiles squealed and bounced on the bed.

“This feels so great!” Stiles gushed, “We haven't talked about stuff like this! Not just kinks, but like, stuff that makes us happy!”

Derek frowned, “We went over favorite colors and foods-”

“Not that,” Stiles shook his head, “That's superficial. Stuff that changes over time. I mean, _real stuff_. Like, I chafe when criticized or bossed around. I hate feeling restrained. Like, _never_ tie me up, but I do love weight on me so _do_ pin me down. When I'm not pregnant I might want to experiment with stuff. Like, maybe I'd like to be spanked. Probably. Definitely. You?”

Derek chuckled and shook his head in amusement, “I have spent my life being in charge even when I was too young to be making those kinds of decisions. I like to give up control. I... I fantasize about giving up control. And being taken care of. Pampered, but not in a staff way. I want to be _loved_. I don't really want to submit, if that makes any sense? More like... I want to show off for you and I want you to enjoy it. I want you to tell me how to excite you. And no violence. When I last did this... it was too much giving up and not enough care.”

“I _will_ care for you,” Stiles gripped his hand, “We'll care for each other, and love will happen eventually. I think we're on our way there already.”

“Yeah, we are,” Derek agreed, and that smile was devastating.

Stiles melted and cupped his cheek with one hand, “Oh gosh, you need to do that more.”

“Smile?” Derek's eyebrows quirked up.

“Yeah. Smile and talk to me. It feels really, really nice.”

“It does,” Derek agreed, and leaned in to brush their lips together gently.

“Oh,” Stiles breathed, leaning in for a deeper kiss, “Let me take care of you?”

Derek pulled on Stiles' arms and rolled onto his back. Stiles straddled his hips, nearly falling on his face but saving himself at the last moment. It felt so good to run his hands over Derek's bare chest and feel him flexing beneath him. Derek relaxed back with a sigh when Stiles sat up. His eyelids were heavy as Stiles stroked along his cheek with long fingers.

Stiles could feel Derek's cock plumping up in his boxers and shifted a bit to encourage it as he smiled down at him. He wasn't sure if he should push things this soon, but some flattery felt right and Derek certainly looked like he could use some pampering.

“You worked so hard, first at the office and then here at home by lifting weights,” Stiles purred, massaging his pecks, “Showing off for me. So handsome.”

Derek groaned, his eyes fell shut, and his hips rolled up.

“Oh you are soooo into praise, and you deserve all the compliments. You have done so much good and gotten so little back. Like, money? Money can't love you. You need more than that, don't you?”

“Mm,” Derek nodded slightly, biting his lower lip, “Yeah, I need...”

“You're going to have that now, Derek,” Stiles breathed, pulling one hand off his hips and directing it to his belly, “A family. A cute as fuck mate- stop laughing- and _all_ the snuggles. You look so sexy lifting weights and I just want to lick every drop of sweat off of your body.”

Stiles leaned down and ran his tongue over Derek's neck, making him arch and moan beneath Stiles. It felt so right, making his alpha purr for him. It felt more involved than him lying back and just spreading his legs. They had had pretty active sex in which Stiles gripped and clawed and growled and demanded more, but this was different than aggressive sex or Stiles bouncing on his dick. This was making love and Stiles shivered as he realized that difference. He gripped Derek's shoulders and moved up to his ear to lick the shell while grinding down on Derek's lap.

Derek shuddered, gasped, gripped Stiles' ass tightly, and shook as his knot expanded in his boxers.

Stiles sat up in surprise, staring down at the growing damp patch on Derek's boxers while Derek gave him a horrified look.

“Wow, kink trophy unlocked,” Stiles stammered, “That was hot as hell.”

Derek barked out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement, “Okay. Let's pretend I made all the usual excuses about how this happens to every guy and you were too sexy or whatever.”

“Accurate,” Stiles nodded, “Totally not your fault. Get it? Knot?”

“Why am I attracted to you again? Okay. We can still fuck, but it's going to be difficult to get me inside you without the usual prep of me fucking you first without being inflated. Or we could do other things.”

Stiles frowned, “No, I got this. I wanna take care of you. You've been stressed and spending all your damn time taking care of _me_ and _my needs_. Just lay back and let me do this.”

“Really?” Derek frowned, “But-”

“Derek, please _let me take care of you,”_ Stiles insisted, “I want to.”

“O...okay,” Derek nodded, pupils blown as he sank back, his body still shuddering in pleasure as his orgasm teased him despite the lack of grip on his knot.

“You are _so into this_ ,” Stiles cooed, “Oh my gosh, you're so freaking cute.”

Stiles coaxed Derek's engorged shaft out of his boxers and cupped his balls. He had taken classes on pleasuring an alpha, of course. All omega's did. It was very different to do this to flesh and blood rather than silicone toys. Stiles rolled his balls and watched the flickers of pleasure on his face. Derek sighed back into the bed, letting Stiles take over. The omega steeled his nerves and began to stroke the length first. He leaned down and ran his tongue around the head of Derek's cock while stroking it and fondling his balls. The salty tang burst on his tongue while Derek groaned beneath him.

Stiles teased beneath the foreskin, surprised at the varied flavor here, and Derek gasped and carded his fingers through his hair. His soft sounds were encouraging and Stiles became more bold with each second. It was a slow build, nothing back alley about his first blowjob, but Derek wasn't complaining. Instead he was tossing his head and moaning softly while guiding the speed.

“Now,” Derek panted, “Stiles... my knot...”

Stiles was glad Derek took the guesswork out of it by telling him when to go for his knot. He eagerly gripped it and gave it a firm squeeze just like he'd been taught in class. Derek was _right_ on the edge and the first grip had him pulsing into Stiles' mouth. Stiles swallowed the first mouthful but quickly sat up afterwards and tried not to choke too obviously. His eyes were watering and he had come all down his chin.

Derek was gone. He was coming over and again, his body tensing repeatedly as his hips rolled forward. He tossed his head and moaned his mate's name and Stiles felt powerful and fragile all at once. Here was this powerful alpha who he had reduced to whimpers and soft cries of pleasure, but Stiles could also feel his muscular body straining beneath him. Derek was a powerhouse and Stiles was painfully attracted to him.

  
Finally his mate collapsed back, panting hard, and Stiles hurriedly rolled over onto the bed beside him. A few quick tugs were all it took, his body was sensitive while pregnant and he'd been incredibly turned on. Stiles panted through a hard release and then relaxed beside Derek with a sigh of relief. The alpha was still trembling through the aftershocks of his own pleasure so Stiles rolled onto his side to study his goofy O-face. He had bunny teeth and Stiles wanted to take a pic and share it with Scott. Not the time, Stiles. Not the time.

Maybe later.

Stiles was still a bit horny, but he didn't feel like jerking off again and Derek was smiling up at the ceiling like an idiot. So Stiles slipped out of bed to clean up instead. He put on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt and headed for the kitchen for a snack. He was rooting around in the fruits bin when someone cleared their throat. Stiles straightened up and glanced over his shoulder to see his dad there.

“Hey pops! Want a peach? I need all the fruit right now. Think this is a craving?”

“Probably a bit early,” Noah chuckled, and stepped forward to give him a half-hug, “But then again what do I know? How you feeling?”

“Weird,” Stiles replied with a grimace, “I'm trying to get along with Derek but I'm also super moody. I don't even think it's the baby. I think it's just that things are changing, you know?”

“Change is scary.”

“I had so many plans, I thought I had it all worked out, and then Derek threw a wrench in things. He's also a guy who... he's _real,_ you know? He's not this fake ass bitch, he's all serious and real. He's an artist, and he's got a dry sense of humor, and he likes movies and books and kids and...”

“And?” Noah asked, “Or was that really a but?”

“Oh, it's a huge but. It's a big ole but.”

“You do love buts.”

“I love buts with two T's, not buts with one T.”

“You love buts with one T,” His father snorted, “You love making trouble where there isn't any and arguing.”

“This isn't that kinda but,” Stiles sighed, leaning against the counter and biting into a peach.

Noah waited him out, eyebrow raised, and Stiles recognized his interrogation face. He didn't need to cave because he was ready to talk.

“I don't think he likes me,” Stiles practically whispered, eyes darting to the door.

“What? No,” Noah shook his head, “No way.”

“Seriously, dad! I made a _shitty_ first impression, and then we were fighting, and I fucking keep _triggering_ the poor guy! He chose me, so at first I figured that he must be into me, but that's all smell! That's not _me!”_ Stiles threw his arms up in frustration.

The bedroom door opened and Derek stared at him from the doorway while Stiles wished the floor would open up and swallow him. He'd gotten loud and now he was staring down a werewolf. Again.

“Talk to him,” Noah gave Stiles' shoulder a little shove, “I can't believe I have to say that to _you_.”

Noah poured himself a glass of milk and headed for his room while shaking his head in disgust. Stiles watched him go and sighed heavily before turning back to Derek to face the music. Derek was frowning at the peach in his hand.

“That's the last peach.”

“Was this... like... were you saving it?” Stiles stammered, holding the second half out to him.

Derek's eyes tracked to the door and he frowned, “I don't think there are any stores open with produce this late.”

Stiles frowned and offered it again even though he _really_ wanted it for himself, “You can have the rest. Or did you need the whole thing? For a smoothie or something?”

Derek perked up, “I could make it into a smoothie for you. Would that count as more?”

“Wait,” Stiles began to grin and it broadened as he realized what was going on, “You're providing. You're doing the providing thing where you get me my cravings!”

Derek nodded, apparently okay with his urges in ways that Stiles wasn't. Maybe Stiles needed to learn from him. Relax. Let his needs be met. Ask for what he wanted and needed instead of plowing ahead and knocking Derek over along the way.

“Yeah, I'd really like it as a smoothie. With some of the blueberries and yogurt?”

Derek hurried forward and pulled the blender out of a cabinet. A minute later and Stiles had a peach-berry smoothie in his hands. He sipped it happily and Derek's lips did that barely-there smile thing that made Stiles' hopes soar. He wanted Stiles to be happy. That was a good thing. Stiles gestured to the couch and Derek sat to watch him enjoy his smoothie while Stiles sat on a bar stool at the island. Stiles sipped his smoothie and then let out a soft breath.

“Okay. Moment of truth. I know you like my scent and my ass. You've made that super clear. What about _me_? What about my personality? My sense of humor?”

Derek looked away a moment, seeming to think and then turned back with a frown, “I don't know you well enough yet. I know you're smart and funny. I like those features. I feel like you've had a mask on this whole time and it only just came off. I haven't known you months, I've known you a week.”

Stiles glanced down in shame, “That makes sense and... I'm... I'm sorry. I guess I should apologize, so... I'm sorry that I lied to you. That I went into this with a big ole pile of dishonesty on the plate.”

Derek took his hand, startling Stiles into looking up at him, “Stiles, don't. Don't apologize for trying to survive and get around obstacles put in your way. I was hurt, and I said hurtful things back to you because of it, but I know it wasn't personal just like you know that I don't think less of omegas. I want you to be happy here, but I also know this isn't what you wanted.”

“Wow, that was... a lot,” Stiles breathed, “Thank you. I want this to work. I'm committed now. I am. Are you? To more than just the cub? Can you be to me?”

Derek leaned in, those smoldering eyes making Stiles weak, and touched their noses together as he spoke, “Yes, I'm committed to you.”

They kissed slowly and Stiles whined a bit into his mouth in desire. He seemed to be constantly aroused and Derek was, thankfully, always ready to meet his needs. He was scooped up and carried into their bedroom for another round of hot mate sex. Derek, it seemed, felt incredibly guilty about not sating him earlier and was determined to make up for it. He had Stiles down on his face, ass in the air, and devoured him while he shook with pleasure.

Stiles couldn't handle the pleasure that Derek's lips, tongue, and beard brought about. The rough texture of his stubble on his soft cheeks combined with the soft, wet, heat of his tongue on the sensitive furl that Derek stroked and prodded made him wild. His tongue flickered and Stiles didn't moan so much as scream, his back bowed and legs spread. His balls slapped Derek's chin as he painted the bed spread and Derek stroked him slowly, wringing more bliss from him with every stroke of his calloused hand. A finger massaging his taint had him convulsing with pleasure until his head spun.

Stiles was laid down on the bed, Derek's hands stroking his body in worship. He was drunk on their activities, head spinning and body weak and twitching. Derek knelt over him, face glistening with spittle and Stiles' natural lubricant. His eyes were dark and intense, a power within them making Stiles shiver as the chill of the night reached his sweat-damp body.

“A blanket,” Stiles whispered, voice hoarse from shouting.

Derek fetched them from the foot of the bed and laid down beside him, pulling them over them both. His fingers caressed Stiles' temple as he slipped into slumber, relieved and safe in his alpha's embrace.


	15. Chapter 15

That was the last time they had sex for a while, because the next morning Stiles woke up and barely made it to the bathroom to purge what felt like every morsel he'd eaten since the fifth grade. Stiles lay in the bathroom groaning and shooing Derek away as he tried to ply him with crackers, ginger ale, and peaches. Stiles slept there, refusing to allow himself to be moved as he gagged and dry heaved every half hour.

Derek brought a doctor in, his mate's words angry and and frightened, but the man looked Stiles over and recommended he force his mate to drink at the very least. Stiles was plied with pedialyte of all things, his sour mouth washed away by something vaguely fruit flavored but glaringly salty. He managed to hold it down after a few attempts and when he finally found himself outside of the dehydrated state that his purging had found him in he was leaning against Derek on the master bathroom floor. His mate was gently stroking his face with a rag that he was dipping in a bowl of ice water periodically.

“I'm not feverish,” Stiles slurred, “I'm pregnant.”

“You're having hot flashes,” Derek told him, “Deaton says they're awful even if they aren't dangerous and I should cool you down for comfort.”

“That's nice,” Stiles sighed, “Is it going to be like this _the whole time?_ I didn't read that in the books.”

“It shouldn't,” He stated softly, “Deaton said it's worse because... because you're dehydrated. You need to keep your fluids up. He said if you didn't manage to keep fluids down by morning to take you to the hospital for an IV.”

“Well, I've kept them down.”

“Crackers to settle your stomach and lots of fluids.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah.”

It was three more days before he was feeling himself again. Still poorly, but no longer unable to leave the bathroom. His father had cared for him most days while Derek was at work, and Derek had slept on the bathroom floor by night. Holding him and washing him with cool rags. Stiles had been raised like most omegas, by the schools if not by his father; to be the household's dear sweet boy and servant combined. Well. Slave. Slave was far more accurate, since he owned nothing and now never would since Derek had decided to keep him. If he'd bought his freedom with his body he'd have been free but he never would have had the joy of fresh fruit to sate his cravings.

Besides, even when he had no desire in him being Derek's was no hardship. He didn't make Stiles feel like property. Didn't make him feel like a curse. With Derek he felt _wanted. Needed._ Even when he wasn't on his back Derek wanted his company. Wanted to watch movies, shows, talk about work. He treated Stiles like a _spouse_. A husband. Gods, a word Stiles didn't dare to speak out loud. That way lay devastation. Derek would never marry an _omega._ It was an honor to own one, a privilege to own several, a joy to breed them, but to marry them was to be mocked. Stiles had no value as a partner, only as an accessory.

He had to remember that, no matter how often Derek whispered him sweet nothings in the night that he wasn't a foundation for Derek to build a home upon. He was a favorite chair. A jewel in his fancy lord-of-the-manor ring. The trophy that he kept upon his mantel to show off to clients. Derek might marry a beta someday, and since he wanted more kids and had voiced concern with having them with Stiles. He might well collect more omegas or have kids with a beta if Stiles yielded an alpha heir. He highly doubted that someone who longed for family would get snipped like he'd stated when drunk.

So Stiles tried to temper himself as he began to fall for Derek in new ways. Sexual attraction was one thing, but Derek had _slept on the bathroom floor_ for him. He was taking an interest in his movies. He'd spread Stiles' stuff throughout the house- not in the area he met clients, but elsewhere- and added his books to the library. Stiles felt _welcomed._ His family's photos had been added to the mantel in the library where only a few still existed from Derek's childhood. He felt like this was becoming his home. Which meant he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something had to go wrong between them, it just did.

In preparation for that eventuality Stiles pried into his dad's finances, found that he had practically squirreled the money Derek had sent him away, and began doing the same. He used that credit card to purchase VISA gift cards sporadically over time, buying one a week and hiding them in his Pokemon card box.

A month passed in this way, with Stiles paranoid but outwardly growing more attached and complacent in their new home. As promised Derek took him out every Sunday night on 'dates' that had more to do with teaching Stiles how to survive in the city. Stiles got a new phone and was added to Derek's plan, standing around the store in boredom while Derek signed the papers for him. He was taught how to call for a taxi, but rather than take it they usually walked to the nearby restaurants and stores. Stiles excitedly shopped for groceries in a little mini mart a block away and they carried the fresh produce, rice, and pork loin back to the house to make a yummy Hispanic dish and baked pears. They walked to that same cafe and Stiles made Derek laugh by describing how freaked out people were when he sat there with nothing to do except sip a coffee. Derek showed Stiles the nearest movie theater, which had an arcade and quickly became Stiles' favorite hang out for times when he didn't feel sickly.

Stiles' morning sickness was thankfully confined to the morning, which was a relief because he'd been told by his dad that his own mother hadn't been so lucky. She'd been sick the whole pregnancy, all day and night. So Stiles got to wake up, be miserable, be cuddled on the bathroom floor until Derek had to go to work, and then after a while he would force down some pedialyte, eat a peach, and start his day. He liked getting out of the house and would head to the cafe for a late hot ginger tea most mornings, sometimes with his dad who was starting to walk a bit more to stretch his legs on days he didn't have physical therapy. Then his dad would go do his own thing while Stiles either took a Uber to a sightseeing location or museum or walked to the movie theater/arcade. Stiles had made friends with a bunch of teenagers and they had a few competitive games going. There were friendly insults going around, mostly about him being an omega, but they were in jest and Stiles just laughed it off.

In the evenings Derek returned home, made dinner with Stiles or for him if he was having a second bout of sickness or feeling tired, and they would relax together on the softer furniture upstairs. This time felt more like Isaac, Noah, and Derek's time and Stiles usually read a book or played on his phone while they muttered to each other, Derek checking up on Stiles through his dad or the two of them talking general future plans. Stiles was still left out, and this made him bitter but resigned. Noah was feeling bored and wanted to do some light work to keep himself busy until the baby arrived but Derek was liking having him around for Stiles. They decided to put it off for a bit while Stiles frowned down at his phone. Like Stiles' education, everything was on hold while Stiles was pregnant. He had already tried arguing that he could manage a single semester, but Derek had pointed out that Stiles _was_ learning. He was learning the city and how to live outside his father's home. Proper education could come later.

Stiles was expecting it to be put off indefinitely. There would just be more excuses later.


	16. Chapter 16

Stiles headed into the second trimester with a surprise visit. Stiles got up late as usual, often trying to rest through the morning sickness with his bottle of pedialyte and crackers. If he was lucky he wouldn't even throw up. So when he came out into the main area it was in his PJ's with a big yawn and a sleeve of crackers in his hand like a kid home sick from school.

“Oh my gosh, you _are_ glowing!” Scott crowed.

Stiles blinked a few times and then screamed in excitement and jumped the fancy ass furniture to hug him tightly. And fell. Flat on the floor on his face. Scott freaked out, Noah groaned, and Stiles felt like an idiot.

“Oh my god!” Scott was helping him up carefully, “Do we call an ambulance?!”

“Derek would have to charge them rent if we called them every time he fell,” Noah chuckled, “He's fine.”

“I only wounded my pride,” Stiles laughed, hugging him tightly now that he was upright, “What are you doing here?!”

“Your dad sent me a ticket and told me to get my ass out here,” Scott chuckled, “Said you needed a friend to hang out with who wasn't fifteen?”

“Pff, some of them are sixteen.”

“That's weird.”

Stiles shrugged. Nobody blinked at omegas hanging out with teenagers. They were considered maternal. The teens' parents, if they knew about it, probably thought Stiles was a good influence on them. That he would teach them about the importance of family. That was probably how Kate had gotten so close to Derek so easily, come to think of it.

“We're playing video games,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “I'm taken. _Pregnant_ and taken. They know this. I know this. There is no disturbance in the force.”

“Okay,” Scott shrugged, “You can't, like, make friends your own age?”

Stiles' eyes narrowed and he turned to his father who quickly looked away.

“Oh, you sly bastard,” Stiles snarled, “You brought him here to talk me out of playing video games at the arcade?!”

“No,” Noah struggled monetarily, “Nothing wrong with occasionally playing games with kids, but you're not a kid anymore and-”

“And I didn't get to _be_ one!” Stiles shouted angrily, “I got bars on my windows and no freedom unless someone was following me around! I was totally unpopular in our neighborhood, if I wasn't playing with Scott I was _alone!”_

Noah grimaced and Stiles' hormones caught up with him. His vision blurred with tears and he stomped off to slam the bedroom door on both of them. It wasn't fucking _fair._ He was having fun! He had a few more months to do that before he'd be too miserable to move, and then he'd have a _baby!_ He was getting in his playful youthful life while he still could, and his father's first instinct was to get his childhood best friend to talk him out of it!

“Stiles!” Noah knocked on the door, practically shouting to be heard through the thick walls and doors, “This isn't about you acting like a kid while you can, it's about _pack!”_

Then it hit Stiles. This was the other fucking shoe. There was no way that Derek didn't know that Scott was coming to visit, which meant he was _in on it!_ He knew that Stiles couldn't manage to bond with his pack and now he was foisting Stiles off on Scott. He'd be an omega in Scott's pack, but live with Derek's. An omega divided, unwanted and without the support he'd need while pregnant and raising a cub. Stiles lost his shit at that, and while ignoring the pleas from the other side of the door he texted his alpha without the least bit of rational.

**S: How fucking dare you decide that I don't get to enjoy myself before I have a fucking baby and my entire life becomes a long line of diapers and self hatred? It's bad enough that you aren't letting me go to school like you promised, and lets face it you aren't going to let me after I have a baby because I'll be your fucking nanny/servant/sex slave. You're not even TRYING to get your pack to like me! My life ended at eleven years old and no one fucking understands or will give me a minute to even try to recapture it.**

**D: If it means that much to you, then enroll in classes. I'm not going to stop you. I just didn't think it was a good idea.**

**S: I'm not talking about the classes! I'm talking about the arcade and Scott!**

**D: I thought you'd be happy to see your friend? You talk about him constantly???**

**S: I wasn't expecting him to show up just to shame me for playing video games at the arcade! Your pack won't accept me, so I can't play with packless teens? What the actual fuck? Why can't I enjoy what little freedom I have?!**

**D: Take a few deep breaths for the baby.**

**S: FUCK YOU! The baby is FINE. I am NOT.**

Derek didn't reply and Stiles had himself a full blown pregnancy meltdown. He threw himself down on the bed, kicked his feet, screamed, and cried. If he was acting like a child, _fucking good._ He'd lost his childhood. He could mourn it and freak the fuck out if he wanted to. It was his life that wasn't going the way it was supposed to, it was unfair and he deserved a good dramatic cry before he knuckled down and obeyed. And he was going to obey, because he _had no choice._ His life wasn't his own. It was Derek's and Derek was going to-

Derek was going to roar like a fucking lion and _stand up for Stiles._

Stiles heard the alpha's dissonance first, it wasn't even a proper howl _it was a bellow._ It echoed and shook the walls and Stiles was pretty sure some fluted glasses broke in the display cabinet by the dining table. Then he began to shout, and for a man of few words when he finally used them he added some barbed fucking wire.

“WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU TWO ARE, COMING INTO OUR HOME AND TELLING STILES HOW TO LIVE HIS LIFE? HE DID IT YOUR WAY AND HE WAS SO MISERABLE HE RAN AWAY TO A _STRANGER'S BED!_ IF HE WANTS TO DANCE NAKED THROUGH TIMES SQUARE IT'S HIS FUCKING BIRTHDAY SUIT TO WEAR AND YOU CAN SHUT UP, APPLAUD, AND BE FUCKING HAPPY FOR HIM! GET OUT! NOW! GET THE FUCK OUT OF OUR HOME! HE'S IN THERE CRYING HIS EYES OUT YOU WASTE OF AN ALPHA'S KNOT!”

Stiles stumbled out, tear streaked and shocked, to find Derek manhandling Scott out the door while the floofy haired idiot looked shocked and confused. Derek tossed him into the hall between their front door and the penthouse and then turned on Stiles' father. Stiles reacted instantly, running forward to stand in front of his dad. Derek froze, ire leaving his eyes as he tilted his head and waited to see if Stiles would say anything.

“I don't want them gone,” He explained, “I just wanted them to stop shaming me about playing arcade games with the teens at the movie theater.”

Stiles had a moment of panic, worried that Derek would feel it was weird as well considering his history, but the man simply nodded his head and stepped away from the door to allow Scott to re-enter.

“Don't upset my mate,” Derek ordered them firmly, “And stay out of our pack politics. We're _fine._ We don't need you. You're a guest, not a visiting alpha. Got it?”

“Uh, yeah.”

He knocked into Scott's shoulder as he walked passed him to the elevator and left without another word. Scott stared after him in shock.

“That... that rock with angry eyebrows is your _mate?”_ Scott asked, ”The softie? Who wants babies and can't get enough of your sweet, sweet ass?”

“Well,” Noah decided, “This day is officially ruined and as an unemployed man there is nothing stopping me from going back to bed and trying again tomorrow.”

Stiles watched his father leave with a frown. They'd talk tomorrow, he was sure. His dad had a habit of avoiding things with work, and without it he had to just retreat until his pride let him apologize to Stiles or at least talk it out. Scott meanwhile looked sheepish and was headed over to say sorry.

“I'm really sorry, Stiles,” Scott frowned, rubbing his hands together anxiously, “I didn't think you'd _cry_. I just thought you'd hang out with _me_ instead.”

There it was. The elephant in the room, and Scott was trying to talk about it without actually talking about it. 'Hang out' instead of 'bond with' him. Because Scott could re-bond with Stiles. He could snatch him back into his pack, and no one would really care so long as Stiles spat out cubs. Derek wouldn't lose his claim, he'd just negotiate a merger or, more likely, completely ignore the fact that Stiles was in a different pack than his own. Only the cubs would suffer, torn between two packs that never merged and forced to find ways to choose to bond with one or the other. They'd chose the closest because they were _cubs_ , which begged a whole new question.

“You moving here?” Stiles asked sharply.

“Well, no...”

“So I'll hang out with you while you're here, of course, but dude. You're leaving eventually and I'll be here with _no one_ to 'hang out' with. What am I supposed to do?”

Scott didn't say bond with Derek's pack. He knew full well Stiles had been trying.

“Aren't there any omegas your age to hang out with? Like, Derek has to know other alphas who will have mates who you could be friends with.”

“He does, but Erica hates me, Boyd never talks, and so far all the alphas I've met have been the kind who make sure their omegas are seen and not heard,” Stiles gestured for Scott to follow him upstairs, “And for the record, those tears were _totally_ the baby.”

Scott smiled a bit and they collapsed into the soft chairs in the den while he gazed around himself with his mouth hanging open.

“This place is seriously amazing!”

“Yeah, it is,” Stiles smiled a bit, “I got my fantasy library!”

“Yeah, you did,” Scott grinned, “You're going to be okay?”

“Yeah, it's not so bad here,” Stiles looked down at the floor, “I am lonely though. You guys were right about that. I'll just... I'll figure it out, okay? Let me handle my shit.”

“I hate that we're so far apart now,” Scott pouted, “I hate that I can't feel you in my heart anymore.”

“I'm saving money up, so I can fly you out sometimes,” Stiles grinned, skipping the pack talk still, “ _Without_ alterior motives.”

“You better,” Scott grinned, “Wanna play video games?”

“Oh _god_ yes,” Stiles groaned, “Derek doesn't get them! He thinks they're _boring!_ ”

They played for a few hours before Stiles got tired and had to lay down, leaving Scott to play by himself for a bit. He woke up to the smell of food cooking and found Derek talking to Scott while he made food.

“A group?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, like a social club or something. Like, the First Omega's Club movie!”

“You... never saw that movie, did you?”

“No, why?”

“Right. Well, we have a pack so we don't need that.”

“Stiles doesn't,” Scott insisted.

“Your pack doesn't exactly like me,” Stiles pointed out to Derek as he climbed down the stairs and joined Scott at the bar.

“Of course they do,” Derek frowned, “You're pack.”

“They really, really don't,” Stiles insisted, wobbling on the stool, “And they aren't... What's with this stool? It's not sitting right.”

“You're so clumsy,” Scott teased.

“No, I swear, I'm... oh my god!” Stiles squealed.

“What?” Derek asked, coming around to see what had him so excited.

“Derek! I've got a bump!”

“Where?” Derek asked, and then froze as Stiles stood up and pulled his shirt up.

“Look! It's throwing off my center of gravity!”

“You don't have one of those,” Scott informed him, but smiled down at Stiles' belly and reached out a hand.

Derek growled and Scott withdrew it hastily. Derek's hand shot out to touch his belly and he stared down at it in dawning wonder. It was just a little tiny bulge on his abdomen that hadn't been there that morning, but it was _real._ Evidence of their little creation in his belly. As werewolves with an alpha/omega pairing it wasn't customary to go to the doctor until after Stiles began to show, so this was a milestone for them. They had heard the flutters of movement and the faint heartbeat long before Stiles could even _feel_ them. Those hadn't felt as real as this was because they just sounded like blood rushing through his veins, something he could hear in others and himself if he were hyperfocusing. This was a sign that their baby was _growing._ It was real.

“We're gonna be parents,” Stiles whispered, eyes filling with tears.

“Is it supposed to be hard?” Derek wondered, moving his hand around even though the bump was so small he could cup it completely with one.

“Yeah, it's my womb,” Stiles nodded, “It's to protect the baby. If I remember correctly, it's mostly fluids right now.”

“Wow, so it's just swimming around in there?” Scott asked in wonder.

“Stop talking,” Stiles laughed at that idiotic statement.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, eyes wide and vulnerable before he could shutter them quickly.

“It didn't feel real, you know?” Stiles stammered, “Like all the noises we heard could be indigestion, but not _this.”_

Derek snorted, “You thought the heartbeat was indigestion?”

“Dude, I've had louder Indian food,” Stiles snorted, “This, though. Wow.”

Derek paused a moment and then wrapped his arms around Stiles and held him tightly for a moment, kissing the top of his head. Stiles snuggled in, breathing in his scent and letting out a slow breath in relief. Their conversation was forgotten yet again, put aside where neither of them would revisit it until forced because it was scary that Stiles was being rejected by Derek's pack.

“Um...” Scott stammered.

“Shh,” Stiles shushed again.

“But...”

“Can't you see we're having a moment here?” Derek snapped at him.

“Your food is burning,” Scott pointed out.


	17. Chapter 17

Stiles was a nervous mess the day his first doctor's appointment. He estimated that he was just into his second trimester and the doctor was surprised to see him so early with a first baby. Apparently showing later was more common, but Stiles was rail thin and had lost weight with his morning sickness. Derek wasn't out of contact with him for even a second, his hands hovering over his lower back or clasping an arm. When Stiles' legs went up in stirrups Derek grabbed his hand as if he were giving birth right that moment.

“You're sweating,” Stiles told him.

Derek grumbled and wiped his hand off and gripped Stiles' hand again. Stiles snickered and the doctor's cold hand distracted him for a moment.

“Everything looks healthy here,” He stated encouragingly, “When was your last exam pre-pregnancy?”

“For the Temple,” Stiles stated, “So... four months ago?”

“Four months, two weeks,” Derek frowned at him.

“Geez, time flies,” Stiles rolled his eyes at the specifics.

The doctor set Stiles up for an ultrasound and they waited with baited breath for the first view of their child. After a few moments the blobs appeared on the screen and the doctor took a few measurements, talked fecundity, and then announced that Stiles was actually further along than he'd thought. He'd assumed he'd gotten pregnant a few weeks into their mating frenzy, but it seemed he had a Temple baby on his hands!

“So I'm due when?” Stiles asked, eyes wide with shock.

“Based on what I'm seeing here, I'd say September 3rd.”

“Oh,” Stiles breathed, eyes like saucers, “Derek... I see a head. It has a _head.”_

“Takes after me then,” Derek taunted.

Stiles slugged his arm, but laughed anyway. The baby jumped and moved and they let out collective sounds of wonder while the doctor smiled fondly. Deaton finally wiped his belly down and let Stiles dress again. They talked about birth plans, book recommendations, the hospital he'd be delivering at if he chose to do so, and nesting. Derek clamped down on Stiles delivering at a hospital.

“My grandmother, mother, and sister all gave birth at home. It's better for an omega's mind to be in their nest,” Derek stated firmly.

“I haven't even _built_ a nest yet,” Stiles huffed, “Maybe it should be _my_ decision where I give birth?”

Derek glanced aside at him and then nodded briefly. He'd let Stiles make the decision, apparently, and Deaton immediately assumed that Stiles was going with hospital given his protest. He gave him a brochure on hospital tours and classes and Stiles started to feel sick to his stomach. Derek watched Stiles carefully but didn't butt in again. Finally they left, with Derek's hand on his lower back guiding him as he spaced out a bit. The car was a gorgeous Camero and Stiles loved it, but Derek rarely drove it since the roads in New York were a pain in the ass to negotiate. He preferred cabs and Stiles could understand why as it took them nearly an hour to get back home from an office that wasn't far away. A taxi wouldn't have been so careful with their precious car, so they'd make turns Derek didn't. Stiles sat in absolute silence and Derek began to shift uncomfortably somewhere around the third red light.

“Are you regretting this again?” Derek asked finally, his voice sounding as if he were trying not to puke while speaking.

“No! No, absolutely not!” Stiles sputtered, “Why would you even ask that? I thought we were past this.”

“You seem... off.”

Stiles sighed, “I'm just regretting putting my foot down on the wrong step.”

“Hm?” Derek asked, confused by his turn of phrase.

“It's something my mother used to say about me. I have a habit of putting my foot down and standing my ground, but I sometimes do it for the wrong thing. Like, my mind is saying 'stand up for yourself' but then my ADHD says 'DO IT NOW', but it's the wrong time, you know? Like I once put my foot down about activities outside the house after I emerged. I wanted to do _something_ so I wasn't so damn isolated. I figured if it was something Scott or Melissa were doing too then I would be with a chaperon, so he couldn't argue. So my dad mentions that Melissa is in a book club and I announced that I wanted to go with her, but really I wanted to go to lacrosse with Scott. I did that a lot and my mom used to say that I put my foot down on the wrong step.”

Derek was silent and Stiles deeply wished that he would do the talking for once so Stiles didn't have to hold up both ends of the conversation. He sighed and Derek echoed it and then spoke up.

“Laura is an alpha.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So was my mom.”

“Okay?”

“Their _omegas_ gave birth, not them.”

“Um...?”

“At hospitals.”

“Oh.”

“My grandmother probably gave birth at home, but that's only because I'm pretty sure there weren't hospitals in America in the 16th century.”

Stiles snorted.

“Your dad mentioned that hospitals really freak you out since...”

_Since his mom died._

“Oh,” Stiles sank into the seat, tension draining out of his body. Derek had made the mother excuse to try to hint to Stiles that he was supportive of his fears and didn't want him afraid during his birth. Stiles hadn't put two and two together because he'd been so deep inside of his own brain that he hadn't seen what was sitting right beside him, “Holy shit, I think I love you.”

Derek was silent and Stiles felt his face heat up.

“That's how many steps today?” Derek asked.

“Three, I think?” Stiles shrugged.

There was a daunting silence but at least this time jokes laid between them. Stiles didn't expect Derek to spout poetry at him, and Stiles hadn't even properly said it. He'd said 'I think'. Derek had some serious relationship issues in the past and Stiles needed to take that into consideration the way that Derek was taking _his_ issues into consideration.

They got home to find Scott packing up. He'd stayed a week with them and was heading home that afternoon. Stiles hugged him tightly and Derek only growled a little. He was starting to get that Scott was family, but it was hard on him.

“I'll bring my mom next time,” Scott promised, “We'll come by for Christmas. It won't be Christmas without you.”

“You fucking better,” Stiles sniffled, “It sucked missing Christmas this year.”

Stiles and Derek had still been in turmoil, Stiles having just taken a pregnancy test a few days before Christmas. He'd thought he'd be home for it only to find out that Derek was keeping him. They hadn't even _acknowledged_ the holiday, and Scott hadn't brought it up because Stiles had been crying during every phone call, wanting to come home and hating his life. It had passed without a single gift from Derek who had been angry and hurt by Stiles' rejection. His father had mailed him a gift, but it had been a onesie for a baby and Stiles had angrily thrown it in the trash.

“Next year is going to be amazing,” Scott promised, “You're gonna be an amazing dad.”

“Thanks man,” Stiles hugged him tightly and when he let go he'd managed to only cry a little. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

Derek drove Scott back to the airport, which Stiles thought was suspicious and probably time for them to talk. Stiles went to the loft and opened the laptop with the credit card in hand. He officially had permission from Derek to enroll in classes and he was going to do it. Online courses since he was pregnant and possibly going to be miserable for a quite a bit. He'd been thinking for a bit about what kind of career he could have and had decided since Derek had his own business that he should take business courses. Maybe he would do something different, or maybe he would help him with his job. Since he was going to be raising a child, working from home like Isaac did sounded very appealing. If nothing else they were versatile courses.

A few minutes online and he'd chosen three even more generic courses. A math course, history, and grammar. He could take those _anywhere_ and do anything with them. Stiles was proud of himself and he headed downstairs to make a celebratory sandwich. Derek was just coming in, and it was with several people in tow behind him with hand carts.

“What's all this?” Stiles asked, at the multitudinous packages.

“The baby stuff arrived,” Derek stated.

“Baby stuff?” Stiles frowned, “I didn't buy any baby stuff. I'm not even nesting yet.”

“I know,” Derek stated, “I ordered it. I hope you like yellow. I'll open them. Some of it might be for my business. I got a call yesterday about the packages arriving so I figured now was the perfect time to bring them up.”

Stiles stared at it in silence as it piled up. He'd made himself a long baby registry list, at least. He'd been doing significant research to make sure he would be buying the best and safest equipment, but Derek must have done the same. Stiles still hadn't had a nesting urge and as Derek stood amongst the boxes watching him with his eyebrows raised in expectation Stiles _still_ didn't have that need to set up a place for his baby or even the birth. He hadn't started the nursery yet aside from moving some furniture around the master bedroom to make room for things. It didn't look good.

Stiles ducked his head and went back to his sandwich. Derek didn't say anything. He just moved the boxes into the bedroom and began setting things up. Stiles ate at the dining room table while deep in thought. He supposed that the list making might have been some nesting, and maybe settling in had counted, but he really didn't have an urge to go set up a nursery corner in their master bedroom. Part of that was because he just was _tired_ all the time. He didn't think it was a bad sign and he hoped that Derek didn't think badly of him for being lazy and miserable while pregnant.


	18. Chapter 18

Noah was doing his best to be supportive, but his boredom was taking it's toll. He was getting cranky without even booze to ease his mind and had started snapping and snarling at Stiles whenever they passed each other. Stiles tried to get him to do puzzles with him, watch movies that he knew helped his dad relax, and generally coax him to not be a dick. It wasn't working out well, and eventually he marched him downstairs to Derek's office and right up to the head honcho's desk.

Derek was in the middle of a discussion with a woman in a smart suit and he scowled at Stiles when he showed up with his dad also dressed in a suit. Derek knew what was happening and he did not look thrilled.

“Hello alpha mate whose baby I am carrying,” Stiles chirped, “Remember the father who has offered to be kind and help with our baby so that you can sleep at night when they don't?”

“He can work the mail room till the baby arrives,” Derek growled.

“He can't lift heavy things,” Stiles put up both hands.

“Stiles,” Noah growled.

“And he needs to take lots of water in, so lots of bathroom breaks,” Stiles continued.

“Stiles!” Noah and Derek both snapped.

“Okay, I'm leaving,” Stiles put up both hands, “You two will be okay?”

Derek rolled his eyes so hard Stiles worried about a concussion but he headed out, finally getting the house to himself for the first time in ages. Isaac didn't really count because he almost never came out of his room, only joining them for dinner. He made the rest of his meals himself, barely speaking, and watched TV in his room. Stiles wasn't sure if this was his normal or if he also hated Stiles the way the rest of the pack did. He just seemed shy.

Stiles let out a big sigh, stretched in the middle of the fancy area where Derek showed off his clients, and then headed for the bedroom to look at the baby furniture. He put a sheet on the mattress and tested out walking between the crib and the changing table to see if he liked where it was positioned. He still didn't feel like doing anything nesting related so he sat in the library to do class work and promptly fell asleep. When he woke up the room downstairs was loud with Derek barking out orders.

“You all know your sections. Don't fuck up. This client is going to pay your Christmas bonuses for the next three years,” Derek snapped.

Stiles could have kicked himself. Derek had a social gathering that night with clients and Stiles was supposed to dress nicely and be shown off the way he should have been during their claiming celebration. Stiles had promised to behave and be sweet and charming and cute as fuck. He was _supposed_ to be cooking as well!

Stiles scrambled downstairs, nearly breaking his ankle in the damn open fucking stairs, and faced off against Derek's pack and a few employees. The employees were in wait staff outfits and there were containers of food being set up.

“I was going to cook,” Stiles stammered.

“Isaac texted me,” Derek told him, “He said you were asleep and-”

“Isaac _told on me,_ you mean,” Stiles scowled.

“You're nearly five months pregnant, Stiles,” Derek frowned, “No one expects you to cook for a dozen people. It's _fine.”_

“I do,” Stiles insisted, “ _You_ did.”

“I was going to let you if you had the energy, which you didn't.”

“Let me?!”

“You know what I mean!”

“Yeah, you're selling me short! Again!”

“They're getting here in half an hour,” Derek stared him down, “Can you cook enough for 12 people in half an hour?”

Stiles' glared into Derek's eyes, hands on his hips, “You could let me _try.”_

“Fine. Go try,” Derek gestured to the kitchen, “And don't forget to be dressed and primped for their arrival!”

Stiles rolled up his sleeves and headed for the kitchen, scowling as he got to work. He threw ingredients into a pan and set it to simmer, set a pot to boil, and fled for the bedroom to quickly wash, dress, and give himself a spritz of cologne. He came out to add pasta to the boiling water, add cream to the sauce, and warm up the oven. He quickly wrapped a wheel of brie in pastry with some fresh blueberries and stuffed it in the oven.

Derek had a spread set up already and Stiles fought back angry pregnancy tears as the guests began to arrive. He laid out his food just as Derek was greeting the first guests and hurried over to stand by his side with a very forced smile. The smell of his rosa sauce had filled the room, overpowering the pre-prepared food, and he could see the guests sniffing the air. He gave Derek a smug grin as they all settled down at the dining table and people started being served. The staff brought the food over as requested and most had Stiles' spaghetti and everyone had some brie. Derek's spread was lightly picked through and Stiles got more smug as they went.

The table had been extended, turned, and placed from dining room to social area near the piano, with Derek at the head and Stiles at his right. Boyd worked with Derek and Laura and Erica were there with him. Lydia Martin was one of their clients, which was where she'd met Cora who was her date. Stiles was having trouble not staring at her. She was gorgeous and brilliant, but he had himself a pretty fine specimen of alpha already so he kept his head down.

They talked business and Stiles listened in because he had decided to be a part of Derek's business and he already knew he hired omegas and packmates. Isaac joined them late, making an excuse about being on a call, and started chatting amicably with the group. So apparently the whole silent treatment really was due to dislike.

It suddenly hit Stiles that he felt absolutely alone despite being in a room full of 16 people, counting the staff. His scent must have changed drastically because the sound suddenly petered out and he found himself the center of attention. Derek shifted and reached for him, rubbing his shoulder gently.

“Did you want to get dessert?” Derek offered, giving him an escape route.

“Sure,” Stiles stammered, heading for the kitchen at a slow pace to avoid falling on his ass.

He was glad to be of use, but he felt so out of place here. At least in Beacon Hills he had Scott. Now he had _no one._ Derek didn't really count, because there was still some resentment over being forced to stay. Stiles cared about him, loved him even, but there was a black mark on their relationship that meant there wasn't as much comfort as there could be. He was sure it would ease in time, but he really needed a friend to vent to who was _present._ Someone who he could snuggle with as pack while he whined about Derek's flaws or wax eloquent about his positive features. Everyone needed that.

The dessert was a round of little crème brulees and the staff member meant to serve them headed over to help him. Stiles knew how to set them up so they both worked their way through the little dishes and got them nice and toasty. The staff member served after Stiles sat back down, and Derek gently took his hand while giving him a worried look. Stiles forced on a smile and Derek tried to get him to perk up for real.

“Your spaghetti went over well,” Derek pointed out.

“It's the sauce. Quick, delicious, and easy to make.”

“It really was great,” Derek nodded, stroking their fingers together and smiling at him.

Stiles melted a bit. Derek had a gorgeous smile with adorable bunny teeth and Stiles loved to see it, whether it was sarcastic or genuine like now. It was rare and he cherished each one.

“Your mate seems to have settled in,” A woman from the claiming party who had made sexist remarks stated, bringing his attention back to her again. Stiles tried not to scowl. She was a billionaire investor and Stiles had been told he had to play nice even when she was an alphanizing horror. Her omega was being made to _kneel_ on the floor behind her.

“We're a good fit,” Derek stated, “He brings joy to my home.”

“And soon a baby,” Stiles touched his protruding bump. It had grown significantly, seeming to expand nightly while he slept.

“Family,” Derek brought Stiles' hand to his mouth and kissed the back firmly, “I can't wait to hold our child.”

“You're going to be an amazing dad,” Stiles stated honestly while Derek stared into his eyes as if he made the sun to rise.

“So will you,” Derek stated, but Stiles heard his heart stutter. Fear, probably. Old trauma, but the werewolves around them would interpret it differently.

“I'll learn,” Stiles laughed lightly, trying to play off his anxiety, “They say teenage parents don't do well, but I'll have you and dad and your pack to help me overcome my inexperience and youth. I signed up for those classes the doctor recommended, too.”

“Oh?” Derek perked up a bit, “Which ones?”

“The breathing one, first off. If I'm having a home birth I'm not going to get the benefit of pain meds.”

“I'll be there to take your pain,” Derek pointed out.

“Oh, trust me. There will be too much for you to take,” Boyd intoned suddenly, surprising Stiles by speaking up. Stiles assumed he had been the one to give birth in the relationship with Laura and Erica, but in what way he had no idea. Could two omegas reproduce on their own? He didn't think so. Maybe Laura had supplied them with a cup of baby batter.

Stiles nodded at his sage advice, “I hope you'll give me some pointers. You carried Laura's cubs?”

“Yeah,” Boyd nodded, but didn't even glance his way.

The tone was sharp and silencing and Stiles caught it even with his usual social inadequacies. It was like a punch in the gut and Stiles lowered his eyes to his dessert picking at the caramelized crust and feeling like shit. A few people cleared their throats awkwardly and the conversations were slowly taken back up around the table.

The group stood eventually and went to the kitchen island where Derek poured everyone after dinner drinks and the staff quickly moved the table to create their social space once again. People began mingling, looking over drawings that were quickly set up on easels, drinking, and talking about their future business plans. People stood around the edges looking at the drawings of his new projects, many in color. Stiles admired some housing projects that he hadn't known Derek was taking on. There was also a cemetery renovation that involved making old, gothic looking buildings with green methods that Derek had been talking excitedly about for some time. The grand stone creations looked like something out of a vampire movie and Stiles wanted to see them in person, but was too tired and sad to voice his thoughts.

Some music was put on and a few people used the wide, open social space framed by his work to dance together, twirling slowly and laughing as they became a bit buzzed. Stiles understood now why this space was so open and not carpeted; it worked as both an art gallery for his work and a dance space. It no longer felt wasted now that Stiles saw it in this light. If anything, it felt too small. Too crowded.

“Dance with me,” Derek whispered into his ear, making Stiles jump as he hadn't realized the man was behind him.

Stiles turned in surprise, finding Derek's cheeks pink from the aconite champagne he'd consumed. He wasn't drunk this time, but he was definitely feeling warm. He looked at Stiles as if he were the only person in the room and Stiles wished he was. He didn't know these people, didn't fit in, didn't want to be there on Derek's arm as a proof of his virility and ability to keep an omega who had no right to leave. The old bitterness was arising, but Stiles tamped it down. He wasn't going to fight with Derek just for wanting a family and going about it the legal way. He couldn't blame him for the pack that rejected Stiles or the system that had failed all omegas.

“I don't exactly know how to dance,” Stiles admitted with a grimace, “They gave us basic lessons in school and I failed miserably.”

“That's because you weren't dancing with me,” Derek purred, eyes heavy with lust.

“My partner cried,” Stiles snickered.

“ _I'm_ your partner now,” Derek growled, “And I don't cry.”

“Nope,” Stiles smirked, “You draw pretty pictures of buildings and make money off them. _Very_ sexy.”

“Yes. Yes it is,” Derek stated firmly, then pulled Stiles' arm until he relented and joined him on the dance floor.

Stiles' belly was in the way and Derek was chuckling at the sight. It helped relieve Stiles' building sorrow and he smiled a bit as they stumbled around the floor looking like fools. It was _not_ graceful, and a few people chortled as they watched them, commenting on how Derek at least looked good. Stiles felt himself flush with anger and hurt. They didn't have to be so damn _insulting._ They knew he could hear, right?! Did no other omegas in the world have _ears?_ Stiles didn't want to start shouting, so he tried to bow out gracefully.

“I'm sorry, but my feet are _killing_ me,” Stiles pulled away from Derek, “I really need to sit down.”

Derek nodded and turned away as Stiles started to waddle back to the couch, making a show of being gravid and needing a break, which he barely was but really did. He detoured to use the bathroom because he was constantly peeing, but also because he needed to take a few breaths before he started crying. He had been a weepy mess since he became pregnant, and it was absolutely exhausting and frustrating. He hated feeling like an emotional mess all the damn time.

_When you come,_ Stiles promised the baby as he rubbed his belly and took slow breaths to calm himself, _I won't be so alone anymore. I'll have you to talk to and play with. Like my dad keeps saying, I'll be too busy to be bored. And lonely. And isolated. I need pack, and this isn't my pack. If this isn't my pack, but it's Derek's, will the baby have trouble bonding with them? Will my baby be packless?_

“Maybe I do need to join a book club or something,” Stiles sighed.

Finally he knew he couldn't hide in the master bathroom any longer. He stepped out, passed through the bedroom and stroked a hand along the crib as he passed it, and headed into the seating area just outside the master bedroom door. He sat down and put his feet up on an ottoman that was usually used as extra seating during gatherings. Stiles was pregnant. He was putting his damn feet up. After a few minutes of more mingling and Derek dancing with his packmates instead, he headed over to Stiles and sat beside him. Derek rubbed Stiles' leg a moment and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. He gave him a concerned look, but his eyes were bleary with drink and they couldn't talk freely in a room full of werewolves.

“I'm okay, just tired,” Stiles insisted, “I shouldn't have walked to the cafe earlier.”

“How are your friends at the arcade?” Derek asked out of the blue.

“Oh, uh, I'm not as fun while pregnant, you know? They're teens, after all. So... yeah... we don't really hang out anymore. They only game with me if their other friends don't show up.”

“So you don't go to the theater anymore?”

“I go to watch movies and play some of the arcade games myself. I won, like, all the toys in those machines for our kid,” Stiles laughed, “They're all set for tchotchkes.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “We can afford name brand toys from every high end store in the area, and you're winning stuffed animals and rubber balls from quarter machines.”

“Nothing costs a quarter anymore. Dollar machines.”

“Oh, beg your pardon. Dollar machines,” Derek replied sarcastically, laughing lightly.

Stiles smiled weakly. He still felt awful and just wanted to go to bed.

“Uh, do you think I can slip away now? I don't want to be rude, but I'm really tired and things are winding down.”

“Sure,” Derek smiled gently, “Let me just make your excuses.”

Derek helped Stiles stand up and he started to turn towards the master bedroom, but Derek put his hand out. Apparently he had to be present for the excuses.

“Stiles is going to be retiring now,” Derek told the room.

There was a collective mixture of sounds, some sorrowful, some fond and understanding. Stiles waved awkwardly and muttered that he hoped they all had a wonderful rest of the night. Someone told him to sleep well and he uttered thanks and headed to bed with Derek _still guiding him._ It felt so formal and ugly, like he was a pet doing tricks for his guests. Stiles hated it. So much.

Finally he was alone, able to get out of the uncomfortable dress maternity clothes that didn't fit quite right because Derek had ordered them when he realized that Stiles had zero fashion sense. Stiles slept naked now; too hot and with sensitive skin that was delighted by Derek's quality sheets. He snuggled down into the blankets with the heavy weighted blanket on top to help him sleep. It was only a twin so it didn't bother Derek when he joined him in bed and inevitably shoved it aside. He would put his arm and leg over Stiles' body instead, but Stiles was slowly getting to the point where his hips hurt and he needed Derek to stop doing that. He'd ordered a big maternity pillow which would take up most of the bed, so it would probably be pretty obvious at some point. He'd have to stick to the weighted blanket at that point, at least as long as it didn't put pressure on his hips or belly. Sleeping was becoming harder and harder and being pregnant made one tired, so it was a source of frustration for him. Stiles fought it down for a bit, but eventually the tears came. He hoped Derek's precious business partners didn't hear or smell him crying.


	19. Chapter 19

“Derek, this is just... it's so ridiculous. He's _weird_ , and we can all tell you're scared about having a baby with him. Break the bond. Send him home,” Isaac pleaded.

Stiles had woken up to this conversation, coming to consciousness slowly with his body feeling heavy and gross. The weighted blanket was still on him, so Derek either hadn't come to bed last night or had realized how uncomfortable Stiles was and left him be. Instead he was out in the kitchen with Isaac, who was suddenly _very talkative_. About Stiles. With the door open, probably so Derek could hear when Stiles woke up and go pamper him. They must have forgotten while being so deeply engrossed.

Stiles shuddered and cuddled down further, wishing he could just go back to sleep. His bladder was screaming so he had to force himself up. It was five in the morning. Fucking hell, why were they even up?

“If I do that, I lose my kid, Isaac,” Derek argued.

“You haven't even _held_ that kid yet. Why get attached now, only to have something go down later? I don't like seeing you like this,” Isaac pleaded, making Stiles freeze before he could even start to stir.

“He's awake,” Derek stated, having heard Stiles' heart jolt at Isaac's words.

“I know,” Isaac replied, voice uncaring, “Please, Derek. We're all on edge here! Laura, Boyd, and Erica told me they won't let him meet their kids, did you know that?”

“Yes, and now Stiles does!” Derek snarled angrily, “Shut! Up!”

Stiles didn't bother to stifle the sobs this time. His guests were gone, Isaac didn't give two shits about Stiles' feelings, and Derek would know he was upset anyway. Stiles headed for the bathroom, finished pissing, washed his hands, grabbed a box of tissues, and sat on the couch across from the crib to have a good, solid cry. Derek stepped into the room carefully, not sure if he'd meet anger or not. When he saw Stiles was just ugly crying he let out a breath of relief and headed over.

“They'll get over it,” Derek assured him, “They're just responding to my initial concerns. I've told them they're no longer in existence and-”

“Yes they are,” Stiles wailed, “I heard your heart!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Last night at dinner. You said I'd be a good dad, _but you were lying.”_

“Stiles,” Derek sat down, “That's just... I've got PTSD, Stiles. I can't control the anxiety sometimes.”

This was the first time Derek had addressed his past without being drunk or dodgy so Stiles' sobs slowed down and he gave him his attention.

“PTSD?”

“Post Traumatic-”

“I know what it stands for, I just didn't know you had a diagnosis. I thought you were just coping on your own.”

Derek shrugged, “I saw a therapist for years. How could I not?”

“Fair,” Stiles nodded.

There were a few minutes of silence while Stiles cried softly before getting himself together enough to turn a bit and face Derek.

“So what do we do?” Stiles asked, “I'm not... I'm not in your pack.”

“Yes. You. Are.” Derek's voice brooked no argument, but Stiles had never really been good at following directions, subtle or not.

“No, I'm not,” Stiles shook his head, “I may be your mate, but your pack has utterly rejected me. I'm isolated, Derek. _Alone._ That's the worst state for a pregnant omega to be in. It's exacerbating my pregnancy symptoms. I'm tired more than I should be as an omega. More sore. Like, I feel _old._ It's fucking awful. Pack and furpiles should be alleviating my problems, but I'm not _getting that._ It's not even my fucking fault! Yes, I didn't want to stay, but I never said I didn't want a cub! I actually _went to the temple to get one._ I would never, ever hurt a baby and you've made me into this looming threat in their eyes! I have zero chances of having a future here!”

“I'm not giving you up,” Derek stated firmly.

“I'm not asking you to,” Stiles replied, blowing his nose again, “I don't even want to leave anymore. I have my dad here, you're loaded, I've got a huge fucking crush on you that could be love someday if we don't end up _despising_ each other, and my pack is... it's _gone_. I miss my friends and my old life, but not enough to go back to them to raise a child _alone._ I'm honestly realizing now how fucking scary and impossible that was going to be and am glad you kept me, even if, like, words would have been nice, you know?”

Derek snorted but nodded, “So what do you want?”

“A pack,” Stiles grimaced, “I want your permission to join another pack.”

“I'm your alpha!” Derek was on his feet, eyes burning red and face twisted in outrage.

“You still will be,” Stiles soothed, “Just not my _pack_ alpha. No one will ever touch me in a sexual way but you. ”

“I can't just...” Derek flailed his arms, at a loss for words and sputtering with anger so much that he was literally spitting mad, “You're my mate! I already have a pack! _You_ already have a pack!”

“My dad is in Scott's pack, and my connection to him broke when you claimed me. He _was_ pack, and he's doing his best to soothe me, but omega biology says that you leave familial pack when you're claimed. You claimed me and that cut me off from my pack, from my dad, but you _haven't provided me with a new pack._ You haven't Derek. That's not a want you can buy me at a store, it's a _need_ and you can't give it to me.”

Derek was pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, hands pulling at his hair, eyes wild, panic replacing the anger on his features as what Stiles was saying sunk in.

“You can't feel your dad anymore?” Derek asked, voice tortured.

“No.”

“I didn't know that happened,” Derek sat down again and put his head in his hands, “No wonder you didn't want to be claimed.”

“I need to find a new pack,” Stiles pleaded, “Please, just give me permission to find a new pack. Maybe I can bring my dad into it and reconnect with him or something-”

“I'll bring him into mine.”

“He'll _never_ be in your pack,” Stiles whispered, “Not after how we started, not with your pack not accepting me. He'll reject them harder than they rejected me and it won't _work.”_

“DAMN IT!” Derek shouted, looking for something to hit and finding nothing effective. He went for a pillow and then grimaced at it when it didn't relieve his distress.

“Please,” Stiles pleaded, Isaac's words ringing in his ears.

“Fine,” Derek grunted, then stomped towards the door, “You have my permission.”

Stiles felt the relief that came with alpha approval, even if it wasn't freely given. Derek was looking out for their cub's well being by giving Stiles permission to join another pack. He wasn't happy about it, he wasn't even _okay_ with it, but it was enough for Stiles' instincts to let him start to look.

Stiles got dressed, grabbed a snack, gulped it down, bundled up in his new heavy coat with room for his belly, and headed out the door after making sure he had his keys and wallet. He went to the cafe first, a place where he was now a well known regular. He knew the baristas and they knew him, greeting him as he walked through the door. He was going go to start looking for a pack here, since the people he hung with at the arcade- or used to- were just too young to be starting a pack with a pregnant omega. He planned to camp here all day and start up conversations until he found himself a beta who could guide him to a pack. He couldn't approach alphas as an omega. Even pregnant he would be offering himself up for claiming and they might try to steal him from Derek. It was complicated to re-claim Stiles as someone bonded, but it was possible. Medication aided it, but there were some pretty horrifying ways to force it if the omega was unwilling. A stolen omega could be legally recovered from the thief, but if Stiles went up to one looking for pack there was no way he'd be able to prove that it wasn't a willing choice on his part. Beta instincts often involved finding omega pack for their alphas through marriage or breeding, so they might guide him to an alpha in a non-sexual way if he told them their situation.

So Stiles got social. He had never had any shyness surrounding approaching people and talking, he just wasn't very _good_ at it. People tended to find him annoying or weird, which was already an issue in his _current_ attempt at a pack. He had no idea if he'd manage to lure in a new one, but hopefully being pregnant and the chances for a merger with a rich pack would help. So he wore his best clothes, the nicer ones just shy of a suit, so he looked as rich as Derek was and hoped that his lack of social graces didn't destroy his options.

After three days he was definitely starting to feel like he was doing something wrong. Every interaction ended with the person quickly excusing themselves, and he had nearly gotten in deep when an alpha who smelled like a beta got hot and bothered at the omega approaching him. If he wasn't buying his weight in food and decaf cappuccinos he was pretty sure the staff would have kicked him out. A manager had hinted pretty strongly that he should try something online instead. _Instead_ was very emphasized.

“Hey, mind if I join you?” Stiles asked, having sniffed out a guy who didn't smell like an alpha and hoping that he was a beta. It wasn't an exact science. Some people could smell like a beta but actually be a weak or packless alpha.

“Uh...” The guy looked up from his book and blinked at Stiles in confusion as his eyes refocused.

Stiles jumped on conversation, because that hadn't been a no and maybe he could get a yes.

“I've got that book in my library,” He pointed at it, “Well, my mate does. Haven't started it yet. Been busy prepping for a baby.”

“Congratulations,” He stated, leaning forward in his chair and peering around the room in search of the alpha responsible for the clearly insane omega.

“Oh, he's not here. He's working. He works a lot. He gave me permission to find my own pack. Initiate a merger.”

“Oh,” The beta sounded like he understood now and refocused on Stiles, “So you're looking for a pack merger?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “His pack is small and familial, so we need to branch out. Otherwise who will Junior here mate with, right?”

“Sure. Sure. Sure,” the guy nodded a few times, “You know, I have to get to work, but good luck with that, okay?”

“Um... yeah. Thanks,” Stiles blinked at him, “Hang on, this is awkward, but could you tell me what I did wrong just now?”

The guy paused and grimaced, “Maybe try not... smelling... of desperation and misery so much?”

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles tried not to pout. How was he going to control that?

“And, look, there are websites for this sort of thing that are just... a lot less awkward. You'd make a better first impression. Approaching people here is just... invasive.”

“Okay, thanks,” Stiles waved awkwardly as he walked away at a fast clip, “Bye.”


	20. Chapter 20

Stiles had spent some time googling how omegas joined secondary packs and created mergers, and most of it had to do with selling breeding rights, marriage mergers, and offering financial services of some kind. In order for Stiles to do this right, he had to have something to _give_ to the other pack. He had to be valuable to them, and if he was already mated than he wasn't an actual option. If he were Derek's sibling this would be easier, but as his _mate_ Stiles was a non-option.

So the suggestion the guy at the cafe had made actually really _was_ his only choice. The websites were full of people who were desperate to find pack like Stiles was. They didn't _need_ a trade. They needed _pack_. They were people who were going to naturally change into an omega- a painful process if they were alphas originally- which would make them more desirable and lure in a pack. However, if they _still_ didn't have a pack after turning omega they would eventually become gammas, the packless who became mentally unwell. Stiles was very, very aware that if he didn't find a pack he'd suffer the same fate.

Stiles made a profile and set up his info. He listed himself as a mated and pregnant omega in the written bio since there wasn't even an _option_ for his particular situation. He explained the problem in as good a light as he could, that he simply couldn't bond with his mate's familial pack and that he had no non-familial pack. He was looking to establish a pack for his father and himself that could allow him to re-bond with his father on a pack level, that would merge with Derek's pack if possible. Stiles figured in this scenario collecting a bunch of betas was easier than finding a whole pack willing to merge with his since the website was more geared towards people in Stiles' situation who had become disassociated with their packs for one reason or another.

Stiles' inbox was _instantly_ flooded.

With dick and psuedopenis clit picks. Alpha female dick was something he'd not really been exposed to overmuch, so the first picture was actually fascinating to him. They were internal and only slid out for mating so all he had seen were medical drawings. Stiles had known that there were alphas on the site, but he'd specifically marked off that he only wanted betas and omegas contacting him. He figured if he got desperate he'd change it to alpha and try for a whole pack, but betas were safer for him. Instead he found out there were alphas listed as betas who were on there hunting for packs. They weren't subtle, they weren't nice, and they got meaner the more he ignored them. He had to block every single one and then have a good cry because crying and pining over pack was all he did anymore.

Stiles made dinner for their little non-pack, his dad still doing his best to maintain physical contact with him throughout the day. Their bond being broken _hurt._ He still smelled like his dad, still felt like his father, still smelled like home, but there was no longer the comfort from his father inside his head that he had always had before. It wasn't as awful as when his mother had died and their bond broke that way, but it felt very similar and it made him _ache_ inside. Derek offered to fly Scott out again, but Stiles just shook his head. He couldn't feel that bond anymore and he was too busy to entertain.

Derek brought Laura downstairs to join them for dinner so Stiles set another plate. She was watching him carefully and Stiles didn't like it. She'd not made a good first impression, and even though he knew she wasn't _actually_ sexist, there had been no apology. He didn't think she even thought she owed him one. After having her stare at him all through the meal cooking and him setting the table, after his father kept trying to pet him like a cat to comfort him, and Derek spent the time silently glaring at his sister, Stiles gave in and just took his plate to their bedroom. Even the upstairs felt too open with Laura trying to suss him out.

Stiles still wasn't nesting. Without a pack he didn't feel safe in his own home to prepare for his birth, and he was starting to realize that it wasn't the harmless non-issue he'd pretended it was. He sometimes handled the baby gear they had, but it was more to learn what it was than to be excited for the coming cub. Instead he was dreading the birth. How could he keep his pup safe outside of his belly if he had no _pack_ and couldn't rely on Derek's pack?

That last thought bounced around in Stiles' head for a while. He didn't want his baby out of his belly. His baby was safe in his belly. His cub wouldn't need pack if they were still attached by umbilical cord to Stiles' body. They were connected right now, even if his baby's identity was just a warm fuzzy feeling inside of him rather than a proper pack bond. It would grow stronger until it was a real bond about a month before the cub's birth. He'd be able to feel his baby then, but for how long? If his cub wanted a _real_ pack, which they would, they'd start bonding with Derek's pack and Stiles would be slid out of his child's mind the way he had from his own father's. He'd be alone. Forever. With no guarantee that Derek's pack would actually treat their child right. Since they hadn't treated Stiles right, what proof was there that their cub would ever be okay?

Stiles finished his food and grabbed a bag, stuffing it full of a few odds and ends. He wasn't paying attention to what he picked up, but he vaguely noticed that it was baby clothes and blankets. It seemed silly to pack those, but he just shrugged it off and packed the laptop because at least that _made sense._

Derek and Laura were in the middle of an argument when he came out, but they were doing it with texts and angry eyebrows so that Stiles couldn't hear. He glanced over, rolled his eyes in disgust, and headed for the door. Derek approached him as he was bundling up.

“Where are you going? Why the bag?” Derek asked.

“Just to the cafe,” Stiles replied, “I need some non-angry air.”

“Why the _bag?”_

“To carry my laptop,” Stiles huffed, “I'm still searching for a pack so I'll be there for a while, you know?”

“You have a pack,” Laura stated from the table, her tone forced.

“I don't even know how many kids you have, their names, or what they look like. I've not even seen a picture. You're _hiding them from me,”_ Stiles pointed out, “You don't scent me, you don't even go _near_ me. That's not what pack is like. If that's what you think than you're a gamma.”

Laura's eyes flashed red, anger and defense of her proud gender. She didn't, however, counter his words. Stiles gave her a brief nod, waved at his dad, and headed out the door after pecking a kiss on Derek's cheek. He looked perturbed but Stiles wasn't running away, he was just going to the damn cafe like he'd said.

Stiles arrived at the cafe and stared around hopefully. It was late so there were less people there and he'd lucked out. A couch was free! He headed over and flopped down, taking up the whole thing with his bag. He set up his laptop, hit power, plugged it in, and started unpacking his bag. He had half his things set up when the manager started freaking out. He didn't approach, but he was pointing at Stiles and hissing at the staff that they had a wild omega _nesting in their cafe._

Stiles looked around for the omega in question, wondering if he should offer comfort to the poor lamb. There was no sign of an omega doing anything remotely nest-like. No blankets pillows in sight except for... Stiles gaped at the staff a moment, then at his pile of now folded baby clothes and blankets sitting beside him on the couch.

Oh shit.

_Oh shit!_

Stiles started hyperventilating and crying- because why not add public humiliation to the mix?- and a beta staff member headed over with a soft smile to try to coax him into giving them the name of someone responsible for him. Stiles broke down completely curling around his belly and heading into a full blown panic attack. Stiles' instincts were reacting to the prolonged lack of a full pack, to Laura's confrontation and glaring, and he was no longer at the cafe looking for beta packmates. He was looking for a _new alpha._

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” Stiles cried out, “No, I love him. I can't. I don't want this! I don't want a new alpha! I want Derek!”

“Derek?” The beta soothed, “That's a nice first name, honey, what's his last name? Is he in your phone? Maybe I can talk to him and he can-”

Stiles started shoving the things back into the bag, determined to go home _right then_ , but his instincts were still fighting them and he ended up holding them against himself while scanning the room frantically. There _had_ to be an alpha there! There just had to be! _He needed pack now!_

“Hey there, baby, please just take a deep breath,” The beta barista was cooing at him, “It's going to be okay, just let me see your phone, okay? We'll call your alpha and-”

She reached out to rub his arm and he jerked back.

“NO!” Stiles screamed, his brain and instincts fighting angrily, “I don't have an alpha! No I do! I love him, but he can't take care of me and I... I... I don't have a _pack!_ I don't have a pack and I'm pregnant and my cub and I are ALL ALONE!”

The panic attack was in full effect, and his omega instincts had completely overridden his brain. Derek was no longer an option. He couldn't meet Stiles' needs. No amount of money in the world could buy a pack that would accept Stiles, and he hadn't even tried to _help him_ find an alternative one when his own rejected Stiles. He had a cub to take care of, and his cub _had_ to come first, and his cub needed pack. Love Derek he did, but it was only a six month relationship. He would move on from it. He was having a cub in about four months and that was a lifelong commitment. If Derek couldn't provide for that cub, than someone else could.

There _were_ alphas in the cafe. Two of them, but even though they were instinctively moving forward and _baby talking_ at him (ugh), they weren't trying to claim him and Stiles was only becoming more hysterical by the second. He was lightheaded, his lips, hands, and feet tingling. His vision was flickering in and out and he felt as if he were watching himself from a distance. Deep down inside he was absolutely appalled at his behavior. He didn't want this. He didn't want to leave Derek, to take his cub from him. He was humiliated by his actions and his words. The young man reaching out for anyone and everyone around him in obvious desperation, making grabby hands like a child wanting to be picked up, _that wasn't him._ That couldn't possibly be Stiles Stilinski.

Except it was, and eventually his omega keening drew in alphas from the streets. Five alphas shoved their way through the cafe door, already calling out for the 'poor baby', the 'sweet angel', the _'dear heart'_ who needed them. They shoved the betas who were trying to mediate the situation out of the way, one of them physically _throwing_ a man across the room and knocking him unconscious.

Stiles recoiled from the violence, but watched them approach in slow motion. There was a woman who moved like grace personified. She looked like a predator, and even when cooing at him there was no kindness in her eyes. Her nails were sharp claws that looked as if they never retracted. The violent man was the largest, towering over them all without an ounce of personality on his face. There were a set of twin boys, but only one looked at Stiles with lust in his eyes. They were young like Stiles, and he instantly thought that they couldn't have a pack for him yet. The last he saw was a man who trailed a bit behind, but by the strength radiating off of him he was by no means the weakest. His eyes glowed red but he carried a cane as if blind, and Stiles couldn't help but note the irony through his madness.

Someone shouted that the police were on the way, but that only got them moving faster. They glanced between themselves, and they must have known each other well because they acted in unison. Stiles was dragged from the cafe, someone shouting at an 'Ethan' to get the nesting bag. Stiles' laptop was left behind. People _tried_ to stop them, but there was no standing up to five alphas and they made it out the door with ease. He was hauled down a street, through an alley, and into a car park where an argument broke out.

“My car is bigger-”

“My car is _nicer!”_

“You don't even know how to use your dick yet, what will you do with an omega?!”

“Now, now, now,” A soft voice of reason cut through them all, “This isn't a pretty virgin at a Temple, this is a soon-to-be-father! He won't be impressed with cars or cocks. He wants to know who can best take care of his _cub._ So. First we ask ourselves, who wants a _child_ in their home? Hm? Ethan, you only prefer other alphas so you will have to step aside, but Aiden can surely participate. Kali? Ennis? What are your thoughts on cubs?”

The woman grimaced but the man nodded firmly. He wanted a cub, apparently. Or he wanted an omega and would kill the cub in Stiles' belly. Stiles whimpered and held his belly in fear. He shouldn't have left the house. He'd taken Derek's baby from him just like _she_ had, and he felt sick and hurt and scared. He wanted to go home. He wanted his library. He wanted his dad. He wanted _Derek_.

“Well, in that case let's give him an option, shall we?” The blind man suggested, his eyes now milky rather than glowing red. He was no longer focusing on Stiles, but his mind was clearly working fast, “Let's give him our credentials and let him choose. Name, pack amount, bank figures, and your thoughts on a future. Ennis, would you like to go first?”

“Ennis. Four. Uh... I'm not rich, but I have... strength. I can give you more cubs?”

Stiles stared at him, wide eyed and horrified. There was no way he was leaving with him, and his expression did the answering for him. Ennis growled but backed down. If he fought the other alphas would tear him limb from limb. Their truce only went so far, especially since Stiles' compliance was shaky at best.

“Kali,” The raven haired woman spoke up, “Seven packmates. I have more money than I can keep track of, two omegas, an emissary, and a three cubs already. Yours would not be alone with me. I expect food on time, a tidy home, and silent children.”

“Aiden. Four packmates counting Ethan. I uh... I'm an intern so I don't have a lot of money, but I would treat you like a _prince_ and I'm working my way up the ladder _._ You would never be alone, I'd build up my pack for you and work hard. We both would.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ethan grumbled.

Stiles was shaking his head frantically. He didn't want to go from one incompetent alpha to another, and the twins gave each other a glance that said they expected no less.

“Gideon Deucalion,” The blind man spoke up, “My pack is twenty-three strong, including several cubs. I run a company here in the city with international connections. I'm a billionaire, to put it lightly. I already have an omega, but she would absolutely adore you.”

It sounded too good to be true, and given what he was facing it seemed the best option to Stiles' instincts even as his brain screamed to _stop no go back Derek please come and stop this please!_

Ennis reacted first. He lashed out at Deucalion as Stiles lifted his arms to him in acceptance. Ennis' blood splashed across Stiles' face, stopping him from seeing the rest of the bloodshed. When he got it wiped off he blinked around himself to see that all but Ethan were dead, and Ethan was wailing over his brother's body in devastation. Deucalion was wiping his bloody claws off on a handkerchief with a small smile on his face.

“Well, now that that unpleasantness is over,” Deucalion stepped forward, “Come along, my dear. I promise you, that things will be-”

Fear was a powerful motivator. It could drive someone to fight or flight, to panic, to power, to speed. It had cut through the instincts that were driving Stiles to react instead of act, and with white-hot terror nearly stopping his heart Stiles found himself suddenly able to _think_ again.

He didn't want to take Derek's cub away from him. He didn't want to find a new alpha. He didn't want this cold-blooded murderer for a mate or the father of his cub. He wanted to _go home_. If he was still craving Derek, than there was a chance his claim hadn't dissolved during his break with reality. There was a chance he could go back to his mate.

Deucalion was simpering at him, mouth twisted into a sneer as he approached him with hand outstretched. Stiles very much doubted that he was going to treat him like anything but a decoration on a shelf, that he would be any more precious to him than the friends or associates he had just casually slaughtered. So Stiles took advantage of the assumption that he was a soft and fragile omega and proved Deucalion wrong... for the first and last time.


	21. Chapter 21

Derek was shaking with fear. He'd been to the cafe, but Stiles wasn't there. His laptop and the police were, along with frankly terrifying footage of Stiles freaking out, begging for help, for a pack, for safety for his cub, and then being dragged off by a group of five alphas. Derek had thrown up at the sight, and the police had demanded answers from him. There was no law protecting Stiles from abuse or neglect... unless he was pregnant. Cubs, especially alpha's cubs, came before even the alpha's needs. Stiles' _needs_ as a pregnant omega included a pack, and Derek hadn't provided one. Now Derek was negligent and even if they found Stiles unclaimed by the other alphas, he was at risk of losing his omega and his cub. They would confiscate him and send him to a Facility or return him to his father and former alpha. Derek would have _no_ right to reclaim having proven himself derelict and causing a scandal. His business could tank. He could go bankrupt. Worse, he would never even meet his child. Social services might decide that an alpha that couldn't provide pack for a _cub_ was a threat. Unwell. Pack was everything. It was the fabric their society was made of. It was how domineering alphas worked together despite the need to control; by having betas beneath who moderated them and omegas who they could mount and keep.

John was shaking scared for his son, but Derek saw now where Stiles got his quick wit and intelligence. While he was giving his statement to the police he was sewing seeds to them as well. No direct statements, but carefully worded hints that Derek wasn't to blame.

“That sister of his, boy, she's a cold fish. Familial pack can be so... shaky, you know? Siblings know how to push buttons. Sometimes it's best to break free. Derek and Stiles were talking about that, but I didn't hear how far their plans went. I know Stiles had an online account? I'm old, I don't know how these new things work. I sure didn't expect _this_. Stiles had panic attacks as a teenager, after his omega mom died. I suppose I should have seen this coming. Warned Derek that it was a possibility, but the two seemed so happy together. This just blindsided me. Gods, I hope he calms down and talks his way away from those alphas.”

“Just find him,” Derek finally managed to croak out, “He's so scared. He's never scared like that, he's so strong. He's... he's brave and outspoken. That wasn't even him on that screen. Just find him and get him away from them. They won't understand him.”

“His instincts have taken over,” Noah spoke up, rubbing his face in anxiety, “He's not thinking, Derek. He's reacting to the need he has to protect his cub. He's going to find the first alpha who can provide what we can't and disappear forever. Into god knows what situation. _Neither_ of us may ever see him again, fucking hell.”

“At least he'll call you!” Derek snapped, “You're his dad! If a new alpha claims him I lose my mate _and_ my cub!”

“If the fucker _lets_ him,” Noah rubbed his hands across his face, “I'm sorry, Derek. I didn't think it would come to this.”

“I never wanted this,” Derek insisted when the cops eyed him up again. A social worker had been called. He was going to lose even if they found him, “I was working on making it right. I gave him permission to find a new pack! I was prepared to merge!”

Noah looked... unconvinced. That did not bode well. He might be gently nudging the police to think well of him, but he clearly didn't think Derek had done enough. Derek didn't know what to say or do. He felt sick. He wanted to run. To puke again. To find his sister and cry in her arms. Or hit her for pushing Stiles away. Except they were stuck there, standing around the cafe while others scoured the city because they weren't even sure if Derek _were_ still Stiles' mate.

“I'll never forgive Laura for this,” Derek choked out.

“My dad,” Noah started, “He was... gods, he was so against Claudia and I. When push came to shove I decided that Stiles didn't need to be exposed to-”

The bells over the door rang and Stiles walked back in, extended hand shaking, one hand on his belly, covered in blood from head to toe. Derek and Noah froze for a moment and then they both bolted for him, but the police stopped them from embracing him when they wanted to. Derek's chance to re-claim Stiles if their bond _were_ broken was _gone._

“There's blood on my face,” Stiles stammered as a social worker cooed at him. He didn't look like himself. He looked like someone in the aftermath of a natural disaster; traumatized and too dazed to process his surroundings as he stared around himself with dead eyes.

“It isn't _yours,”_ Derek sobbed, more to reasure himself as he reached for him between two cops. They were alphas and perfectly capable of containing him, unlike the betas who couldn't counter the five who had taken Stiles, “You're safe, Stiles. You're safe. Your dad's here... fucking hell, at least let his dad near him!”

“I lost my bag with my nesting material in it,” Stiles stammered.

“I'll replace it,” Derek insisted.

“It's you we can't replace,” Noah reminded him as a unit arrived outside to take Stiles away, “You and that baby. Don't forget that. We love you. _So,_ so much.”

Stiles was packed into an ambulance, his eyes pleading as they hauled him away while Derek and Noah reached for him helplessly. The social worker that had shown up for Stiles left with him, but not before calling for a second and informing him that his home would be inspected. Derek felt sick to his stomach as they waited for her to arrive and walked her to his home with Noah fighting back tears beside him. Derek gripped his shoulder supportively, thankful that the man had spoken up for him and hopeful he would again. The reality of the situation was sinking in, the fear retreating to be replaced with a sick feeling in his gut. Resignation. Loss. He was so familiar with it and the helpless feeling that came with grief afterwards.

He was about to lose everything.

Derek watched, numb and silent, as the social worker poked through everything in his home. She looked through drawers, the fridge, and even went into Isaac's room despite his protests and clear anxiety. Isaac snuggled up against Derek and he didn't dare push him away even though he wanted to because he was a huge chunk of the cause. Instead he held his beta and watched as Noah explained in soft tones that Stiles had always had trouble bonding with pack, that the one he'd come from was small. Stiles needed understanding from packmates. It wasn't _Derek's_ fault, it was the fault of the other pack members for not accepting an oddball like Stiles.

Derek knew otherwise. Stiles was absolutely amazing. His pack was too traumatized by Kate to accept his mate, probably ever, even if it had been someone else and the circumstances better. That was when it hit him. A solution. An actual option.


	22. Chapter 22

The police wanted to take his statement, especially once they got a call about a bunch of bodies and a hysterical alpha in a carport. Stiles was taken to a hospital to be looked over, and questioned the second the doctor let the police near him. The doctor remained on hand, insisting that he was in shock and needed to rest. They were so concerned over his hysterical reaction they were keeping him overnight. Apparently they were running all sorts of hormone tests to determine if he'd broken his bond with Derek naturally, if he had been going into a pregnancy psuedo heat to draw in the alphas, and if he was mentally competent when he'd killed Deucalion. The answers would determine what would happen to Stiles.

If his bond with Derek had ended naturally than any review on Derek's competency as an alpha would be a moot point. Stiles would be given the option to go back to his former alpha and/or parents, in this case Scott and his dad. Derek would not get his cub and a court would determine if Derek were to be allowed visitation at all since he might be unsafe for the cubs if his omega had felt the physiological need to break their chemical bond to protect his cubs. Of course, that very much was up in the air since Stiles had killed one of the _precious_ alphas who had taken him from the cafe.

If Stiles' bond with Derek were still in tact and he had _not_ been on a psuedo-heat, than the alphas who had taken him were _not_ compelled to abduct him. An omega in the state he was in should have been returned to Derek or a hospital seeing as how he was pregnant and clearly distressed. An omega who was claimed had a right to choose to ask to be re-claimed, but Stiles' shouts in the cafe had been a mixture of pleading for claiming and shouting that he didn't want to be. So unless hormones were involved, those alphas had no right to take him or to try to claim him. They could offer, but not _take_ , and they had clearly taken. That blurred the lines of consent and made it possible that Stiles had defended himself, his cub, and Derek's legal claim as his alpha. However, if he had lured in the alphas with a psuedo heat- something he would not have been in control of but would surely be blamed for- than he had no right to kill them and would undergo a trial after his child was born. That would probably result in him being placed in the omega equivalent of prison, which was attractively called a Facility.

It was said in hushed tones that they were little more than institutional rape and breeding facilities, in which omegas who were deemed mentally unfit to raise their cubs were placed to be bred by paying alphas who would take home the resulting offspring. Stiles had always thought they were fake, but now he wasn't so sure because he heard the word _Eichen_ being bandied around in ominous tones.

Either way, it was fairly likely that once they determined the answers to all of the above they would be having him thoroughly examined by a psychologist to determine what his competency was. Even if all the medical factors lined up in his favor, an omega who couldn't draw in and bond with a pack couldn't care for his cubs. At the very least he would lose his cub, Derek's cub, and he doubted that Derek would be given the pup. Stiles' freedom seemed unlikely. Everything was bleek and pointless and hopeless and it showed on his face.

Stiles gave his statement to the police in dull tones while the social worker listened. He stuck to the facts, which wasn't hard because he was absolutely still off his gourd. He still felt numb and was intensely tired. After they left he curled up and went to sleep, no sedative required or allowed, and he didn't wake up until Dr. Morrell arrived with some alarming news. Stiles was being released from the hospital and he was headed to Eichen House.

No visitation allowed.


	23. Chapter 23

Laura was watching the video of Stiles screaming hysterically in the cafe for the third time, her eyes wide as saucers and her face damp with tears. She had one hand over her mouth and the other just kept rewinding, sometimes focusing on specific parts. Derek noticed that she repeated the part where he sobbed that he had no pack four times before playing the part where he claimed to love Derek twice. Finally she paused it and stepped back with a slow breath.

“Say something,” Derek urged.

“I... I can't,” She sobbed, “How did it c-come to this?”

“You _rejected him_ ,” Derek insisted, “All of you did.”

Derek's pack were around him, all having seen the video at least once. It was on the internet, so no tape from the cafe required. Stiles had gone viral and Green Skies stock had dropped 200 points. It might recover. Or it might not. At the moment Derek's shame was all over the news, but that wasn't where his focus was. He didn't care about his business, he cared about _Stiles,_ who was currently in Eichen House and might well remain there for the rest of his life if Derek couldn't find a solution.

“I'm sorry,” Cora whispered, “He just... he didn't want to _be_ here.”

“He got passed that. You didn't,” Derek accused.

“To be fair, I'm barely around and can't build a pack yet,” Cora sniffled.

“Leave her alone,” Laura scolded mildly, “She's technically still a kid.”

“He was annoying, you know? How did you not find him annoying as-” Isaac started, but Derek's glare stopped him in his tracks, “Okay, you're going through something right now. I'll ask later... or never.”

“This is all a moot point,” Noah spoke softly from where he sat on Derek's couch looking pained. He refused to take his medication because he wanted his mind sharp for Stiles, “Stiles wasn't in heat, so he had a right to defend himself. His bond with Derek isn't broken, but it will be chemically removed if he's found incompetent. He'll never see his cub. Stiles might not, either at this rate.”

“Incompetence of an alpha is hard to prove,” Laura insisted, “It's really hard to prove. They're more likely to blame Stiles than you, Derek. Especially since you gave him permission to find another pack and he _didn't.”_

Derek walked over to the tablet screen, rewound it again, and went to the part where he begged for pack and played it. Loudly. Laura winced and drew away, pulling at her hair.

“Okay. We have to get him off of whatever accusation they lever against him,” Laura stated, “Then we have to save the business. It will mean touting your reconciliation and maybe making a donation to Eichen and some odd charity for supporting omegas in whatever situation seems best. Then we need to make sure that he bonds with us. We'll see a therapist. We'll _make_ it work.”

“No,” Derek shook his head, “We won't.”

“You can't give up!” Laura turned on him sharply, “This will effect the whole pack! You can't lose another child! Look. If he's not what you really want, than just date naturally and find someone to add to your marriage! He obviously is more into you _and_ the cub than you initially thought, so your fears were wrong and-”

“Which is what I've been _telling you for weeks._ And why do you think I'm not into him? When have I _ever_ given you that impression! Do you even _hear_ me? Ever? _”_

Laura let out a slow breath, “I'm sorry, Derek. I'm sorry I didn't hear you or give him another chance, but I was afraid _for my cubs._ You aren't the only one traumatized here, and I know that I don't have as much right to speak on that, but please know that I never meant to hurt him. Now we _have_ to do damage control, so I need you focused on that. Okay?”

“No,” Derek shook his head, “I'm not putting him through this again. I'm giving him up.”

“You're doing what?”

“I'm going to hire a team of lawyers to defend him and then I'm going to give him back to his dad and Scott. Scott's already on his way here. If I'm lucky he and the state will let me see my cub. If not...” Derek shrugged.

“Why?” Laura asked in devastation.

“Because he's terrified of hospitals and _I put him in one.”_


	24. Chapter 24

Deucalion's omega mate was in the same fucking hospital as Stiles. She recognized him from the youtube video of him screaming at banshee decibels and was glaring daggers at him. Stiles was trying to avoid her because he was both ashamed of his actions and afraid. He'd cost her her entire life, her freedom, her mate, perhaps even children she'd had with Deucalion already. She was heavy with pregnancy, further along than he was, and wearing the loose hospital garb of those who were suicide risks. Stiles threw up the first time someone pointed her out and told him who she was. The doctor made a note in his file about it and Stiles had no idea if his guilt over her loss would count for or against him.

Stiles still wasn't sure about the rumors surrounding the Facilities, but it was pretty clear that this was a place for _very_ unwell omegas. Suicide risk scrubs were common, as was staring into space and rocking back and forth, and there was one female omega who just randomly screamed at odd times. She didn't sound like a banshee, but it was still grating and alarming and made his heart start up every time she did it. She didn't even stop at night, waking him often and always _right_ after he fell asleep. She didn't seem to be aware of him, but it felt personal anyway.

In addition to mind numbing terror and a cold, institutional feel, they were all of them packless and many pregnant. This meant that they were in a heightened state of anxiety and desperate to bond with mates and packs. The staff encouraged the pregnant and those longing for pack to bond with each other, even though omegas couldn't form actual packs without at least one alpha involved. The results were groups crowded together holding each other, petting each other's hair and whispering comfort that was never quite received. Stiles both wanted to be held and didn't want these strangers touching him and his precious bump. He tolerated it because to be in solitude was to feel as if bugs were crawling beneath his skin, the need to claw his own flesh building day by day. He at least could still feel Derek, but his pack was incomplete and the distance between he and his mate was choking him.

Stiles wondered if his mother had ever seen the inside of such a hell hole. He hoped she hadn't. He was glad she was dead before he was placed in one.

Ms. Morrell came by again a few days after he arrived, sitting Stiles down to talk to him about the results of all his tests.

“It seems despite your apparent distress in the cafe that your bond with Derek did _not_ naturally break,” Dr. Morrell explained gently, eyes soft and understanding, “I'm afraid he'll have to go through a competency test to keep you.”

“He can keep me, though?” Stiles asked hopefully, “He never abused me. I said that. It wasn't his fault. He _tried_ , you know?”

“If that's what you both want,” She nodded, “Social services will be very involved even if he does pass.”

Stiles slouched. He doubted Derek wanted him now, but he'd want the baby.

“What about...” Stiles touched his belly gently, “Can he claim the baby, but not me?”

“If you are proven to be in some way deficient he can reject you the second the cub is born, yes, but that has not been determined yet. It may still be, just so you're aware. We're going to keep running some psychological tests on you until we determine what truly happened inside your head and outside your body.”

Stiles blinked in surprise, “Oh, um, okay. So I wasn't on heat? Or we don't know yet?”

“You were not,” She nodded, “Which means that a _responsible_ alpha should have gotten you to a hospital or Derek, which was what the cafe staff were trying to do.”

“Did that guy who got thrown get badly hurt?” Stiles asked, suddenly recalling him.

“You remember that?” She asked.

“I... I can't picture him. It's like a blur, but... I remember being afraid of the one who threw him. I remember thinking that he'd hurt me. Hurt my cubs.”

“He might have, but we'll never know now for sure,” She replied, “The man survived, but had a broken arm. He was a kitsune, so it took longer to heal. He'll be okay in another day.”

“That's good,” Stiles nodded, eyes down.

“Do you want to see if he is a viable mate?”

“I thought you said my bond with Derek was whole?” Stiles' eyes shot up suspiciously.

“You were in that cafe looking for pack, Stiles,” She soothed gently, “Pack is easiest to find with a new mate. Just because you weren't on heat to draw in a new one doesn't mean you won't start it if you and Derek aren't reunited soon.”

“Why aren't you trying to get me back to him like you said those other alphas should have been?”

She shifted and frowned, “Because now his competency is being called into question. If you go into heat here we'll be providing you with an alpha who has already been determined to be competent so that your distress doesn't cause the baby to be lost. You'll have the right to divorce him after birth if need be, which is sooner than with Derek. That's good, right?”

“No,” Stiles stared at her aghast, “No, that's not good. That sounds suspiciously like rape!”

“It's no different than a Temple-”

“It so fucking is!” Stiles shouted, then took a few breaths when her face tensed at his tone, “I went to the temple willingly. I'm not here willingly. I want to go _home_. Back to Derek. Doesn't that count for _something?_ Can't you determine both our competency by watching us _together?_ At his place?”

“In his territory? That would be dangerous,” She shook her head dismissively, “Let's talk about the other alphas since you mention rape. What they did, since you were not on heat and were claimed by Derek, was technically abducting you, not rescuing you. If they had forced a claim on you and mated you, that would be legally rape. Is... that how you see it?”

“Well, yeah,” Stiles shrugged, “I just... they were so _violent_. I didn't want them near me. I was sure the one would kill my cub if he claimed me to... to get his own on me instead. I was meat to him. A prize. Not a person. Derek sees me as a person.”

“Do you want Derek to keep you? Or just your baby?”

“Both of us, of course. I don't want to be separated from my cub!” Stiles looked down, embarrassed to confess this to her before Derek, “I love him. I know he's flawed, but it's not his fault. He needs a better pack. It's not that his is bad or anything, I just don't think they know how to help him. Support him.”

“Do you?”

  
“I think so,” Stiles considered, “I want to learn how, if I don't. Can you help me with that? I never thought about being a mate before, just about getting my right to work so I feel wrong-footed all the time now. Like I didn't pay enough attention to what I'm supposed to do, you know? I want to learn. I want to be a good mate. A good father.”

“So you want to do what you're naturally supposed to do now?”

Stiles grimaced. That sounded like a whole lot of alpha propaganda, but he had to get out of this hellhole and he knew what they wanted to hear. He also wasn't entirely lying. He wanted desperately to be in Derek's arms, and a traitorous part of him was screaming _submit_ if that made it happen. So he answered her with a question to garner her thoughts in the hopes of manipulating his way out.

“Does that make me weak? Wanting to be the obedient little housespouse who raises cubs and makes my alpha happy?”

“I think that it takes a very strong person to take care of others,” She told him, “I wouldn't consider myself weak, and that's basically what I'm doing.”

Stiles didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. Whenever he thought of Derek and pack it felt like a raw, open wound. He just wanted to be with him desperately. He had to plead his case with her in the hopes she would help him.

“I didn't kill all of them,” Stiles told her, changing the subject to one he could stomach, “They were killing each other off. That Deucalion guy. I was so afraid of him. I thought he was nice at first, I would have gone with him, I almost did, but then I saw what he did to the others and... He was dangerous. I know he was. I'm not a _murderer._ I'm not.”

Stiles rubbed his belly anxiously and Dr. Morrell studied him silently for a moment, then clicked her pen annoyingly a few times and seemed to consider him.

“Tell you what,” She stated, “You're anxiety around this situation isn't helping with a diagnosis, so I think I'll let you in on a little info that might make you less concerned. The first is that you're not going to be tried for murder. They were in the wrong. You were a victim and defending yourself. We'll work on your misplaced guilt together. The second is that circumstances have proven that Mr. Hale is _not_ incompetent when it comes to your care and potentially your child's, although we'll certainly be following up. So that means that _if_ you are found to be competent for childcare Mr. Hale has two options in place, and he has already decided.”

“He has?” Stiles sat forward eagerly, “What is it? What's he gonna do?”

She smiled softly, “He has offered to either take you back _or_ he is giving you the option of sending you to your former pack _with_ your child and money _._ Isn't that lovely? It's what you originally wanted, right?”

“He's... he's giving me a choice? I have a _choice?_ ”


	25. Chapter 25

“Yes,” Dr. Morrell nodded, “If you decide that you can not form a pack with him than he will send you back, with the child, and with the funds you need to survive. We'll administer the chemical agent that breaks the bond right away and you can go home and have your baby there. If you decide to stay with him, you'll go back to the way things were but a social worker will nose in occasionally to make sure things don't go pear-shaped again.”

Stiles glanced out the window and sighed. It looked cloudy beyond the bars. Stiles wondered if it would snow. He'd never seen more than a light powder in Beacon Hills. He wondered if his cub would go sledding in the snow, or build a fort, or have a snowball fight someday. He wondered if he'd see it.

“That's all depending on if I get cleared, right?” Stiles forced the words through a tight throat, “I know I'm not crazy, but proving it's a different story. So what if I don't?”

“Then Derek will take care of the baby,” She replied easily, “Either way, your cub will be okay, Stiles. I can promise you that.”

Stiles let out a slow breath, “It was what I wanted originally, but it isn't anymore. Can you tell him that? Pass him a message since they won't let us see each other? I just... I _crave him._ I know it's the bond, and that you said you can dissolve that, but I don't want it to go away. As scary as this has been, and sometimes awful, it's the most alive I've felt since my mother died. I don't think that's the claiming bite. I think that's _him._ I think that's _us._ I think if we tried again, changed things up, that we could be amazing together. The three of us.”

She cocked her head to one side and considered him, “But what about pack?”

Stiles let out a hopeless shrug, “It's not Derek's fault. It never was. It was my fault, but I was on my way to making it right. I really did want to leave him originally, and when his pack saw how upset I made him _they_ were triggered and they wouldn't let me near! I couldn't fix it before, but now I can. I'm willingly going back, that has to mean something! I'll show them that I'm a good mate and father. I know I can. Please, just let me _try._ I want to go home. I don't belong here.”

Dr. Morrell smiled softly, “That's all I needed to hear.”

“It... this was a _test?_ Ugh! How freaking stressed out am I that I didn't catch on! Of _course_ it was a test! You needed to be sure I wasn't really asking those alphas to break my bond! What better way than offer me freedom and see if I went running back to Derek! Ugh! I'm so stupid! He hasn't offered me a choice in anything, has he?!”

Stiles' vision blurred with unshed tears, because honestly? A choice? It _meant something to him._ It meant erasing their bad start, it meant Derek not _keeping_ him against his will, but winning him over. She'd just handed him that and then taken it away, and combined with pregnancy hormones it was fucking with him. Bad. Stiles blinked them away. He was done crying, damn it. She didn't get to see his tears. When he could see her clearly she was smiling, not quite smug but close enough to it that he instantly hated her.


	26. Chapter 26

Derek hadn't wanted Laura in his home again, but she could feel their bond dwindling and she was frantic to fix it, promising to bond with Stiles the second he came home. To have an actual puppy pile with her kids included until they were drowning in his scent. Derek had sent her a short text to stop her pleading and the results were her banging on his door like a nutcase.

“You're just... giving him up?” Laura asked, “Derek, you look like... well, the worse I've seen you in ages. You don't want this. I can tell you don't.”

“It was the only way to convince them,” Derek replied, “Noah and I thought it up together. Originally I just wanted the fastest way to get him out of the hospital, which is a change of circumstances, but then Noah pointed out that without me stating full confidence in his ability to raise a cub that he'd be just... tried like a criminal. He doesn't deserve that. So I told them that it was our fault. All of ours. I want them to know full well that Stiles did _nothing_ to deserve this, to push pack away, and that his reaction was justified. If any of you ever cared for me you'll put that in writing. Signed and stamped. Stiles can _not_ lose our cub.”

“ _You_ can't lose your cub!” Cora shrieked.

“I _already have_ ,” Derek's voice cracked, “Stiles doesn't feel _safe_ with me. He was looking for a new pack in that cafe, and it could have gotten him killed. He _has_ a pack, one that I took him from, and I didn't give him a new pack to replace it. They were ready to rule us both incompetent and _take the cub completely_. I had to state that I had full competence in Stiles, because they'll listen to an alpha before an omega. So I did. I gave him my full support and told them that we were at fault, so now _I'm incompetent._ I lose Stiles either way. At least this way I'm making sure he goes to the right place. He's going home. Where he belongs. His dad is already packing up his shit, so feel free to let yourself out- you're not needed or wanted here- _after_ you sign a letter stating you shunned him.”

Derek pulled out a lined notebook and slammed it down on the kitchen island and dumped a cup of pens on top of it. He stomped off, fighting back tears, and went into the bedroom to start packing up the baby furniture.

He hadn't had to do this before. His family home had burnt to the ground with all the baby furniture unused inside, so there were far worse things that he had lost inside that building. People. Memories. Pictures. He had buried a child, and he was very aware that this was a far better option. His baby would still be alive, just... apart. He was still mourning, and in a way that felt like a betrayal to the first baby. His first son had _died,_ and Derek had tried to move on and been punished for it. Giving up, Derek sat down on his bed and wept while holding a bundle of clothes in his hands very similar to the ones Stiles had squirreled out of their former home in his panic to find a nest.

Laura knocked at his door but Derek ignored it, continuing to sob and hold the clothes tightly in his hands. They were so _small,_ and he'd never get to see them around his baby. Never get to smell the baby's hair. Due to the position, they still didn't know the sex of the child and Derek might not even find that out. Wouldn't get to pick a name. Get to sing it at night to a crying toddler. Sternly speak it to a misbehaving child or angry teenager. See it on a baby registry for a grandchild someday.

“I called Scott,” Laura spoke up, after opening his door without permission. He wanted to throw something at her, but all he had in reach was the new baby's clothes and he wasn't letting them go, “I asked him for another option and he seemed confused. He's not very smart, is he?”

Derek shrugged, uncaring.

Laura went over to the crib he'd begun taking apart and frowned down at it, “I won't make any more excuses. They're obviously pointless and are only hurting you. I fucked up. We all did. I hope you know that you didn't?”

Derek shook his head miserably. He couldn't give Stiles _pack._ What use was an alpha without a pack? He would be better off a gamma. Maybe Scott would be kind enough to put him down when he showed up if he'd regressed that fast.

“You really didn't,” Laura got a bit closer, but stopped when his eyes flashed red. She wrapped her arms around herself, “This is an unusual situation. You have a pack. You had no reason to do anything besides assume he'd slide into it the way he should have. We rejected him, like you told the social workers, and that caused all this. You are looking at this like it's just an excuse you made, but it's very, very true.”

Derek stood and began to pack the clothes away again. He had a lot of boxes lying around from them being shipped in and they were heading right back in there. Derek was folding them slowly, the way Stiles had in the cafe when he'd been content to nest there. Maybe he was already on his way to changing, what with his pack fracturing. He'd become a beta first, which would be weird but not painful. Then he'd change to an omega, which would be painful as internal organs changed. If he couldn't lure in a mate as an omega he'd turn gamma. He wondered how long it would take? Stiles would know.

Laura took in a sharp breath.

“I'm going to talk to him when he gets here. Like he's pack. Like he's an equal. The way I should have from the door. No games. No teasing. I'm going to alpha up and fix this, Derek.”

She left with that promise made, tones more like a threat, and Derek didn't dare to hope. It was too late, anyway. They were still testing Stiles at the Facility, but he'd already been there two days. He had no idea what mental state his mate was in, being kept in his own personal hell for days on end, but he knew that he wouldn't be staying. He had his freedom, and his money, and the cub he'd originally wanted. There was nothing to keep him, no reason to want to stay, and no legal way that Derek could be his alpha anymore.


	27. Chapter 27

“They fucked with my head while I was in there,” Stiles told Scott as he drove him back to Derek's place to get his things, “Isn't that messed up? Like, what psychologist _fucks_ with someone's head? They're supposed to _fix_ your head, not fuck with it.”

“What did they do?” Scott's voice had gone low and threatening. Scott gave off the impression that he was a soft, floppy-eared puppy, and many people discounted him until he turned ferocious in words or deeds.

“Nothing horrific, but that Doctor read me like a freaking _book._ Easier, actually. She read me like a street sign. She was, like, scary smart. I tried to manipulate my way out and it was _laughable._ She told me that Derek had given me the _option_ that I'd originally wanted him to give me. That he'd offered to send me home, cub and money in hand, but also given me the choice to stay and build a new pack with him. How fucked up is that?”

“Why would she lie to you?” Scott demanded, still angry.

“To see if I'd choose Derek. It was part of determining if I really wanted to stay with him. If I did, than me killing Deucalion when he was going to usurp Derek's claim was self defense; not just legally, but mentally. It means that I'm not a crazy ass murderer. They won't even bother with a trial thanks to her words, not with me pregnant and omegas so 'small and helpless and instinct driven'. So she was doing it for a good reason, one that means I get to keep my cub, but the _hope._ I mean. I said from the door that the biggest obstacle we had in our relationship was that Derek never gave me a choice. He could have been like 'hey, I know you were lying and that's shitty, but I really want this to work so let's talk', but instead he was just like 'I'm keeping you and you can't whine about it because you lied'.”

Scott made a non-committal noise and Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott had felt for Derek's side of things and thought Stiles went _miles_ too far by pretending to be blind and altering his Tragic Back Story. He was also staunchly on the Support Stiles Fence, which at this point had a far smaller King Of The Hill feel than it every had. So Scott was being super quiet and letting Stiles talk his way through his thoughts and feelings.

“Was there a reason why you wanted to put me through this?” Stiles asked with a heavy sigh, “Derek gave me up. They were very clear about that when they finally stopped lying to me. I doubt he wants to _say goodbye.”_

“Stiles,” Scott sounded beyond fed up and that was what drew Stiles' eyes to his friend in the back of the taxi, “You aren't supposed to be the dumb one, so this is going to be really hard for me to articulate.”

“Oh, good start,” Stiles' eyes widened, “College vocabulary.”

“Shut up and fucking _pay attention,”_ Scott's eyes flashed red and Stiles instinctively cowered. Scott was his best friend, but their pack bond had broken and that made him _other alpha_. A threat when he was alone and pregnant. Scott was unrepentant.

“I am!”

“No, you're just _existing._ Seriously, I know pregnancy brain is a thing-”

“It is! I lost 2-4% of my brain mass to fluid retention in my womb!”

“-but what the hell are you doing?! You're the planner in our group and you haven't planned _fuck all_. You just got yourself dicked and then sat back and let Derek run everything. You've always said that alphas can't run shit, that they need omegas to keep them from walking into a _wall_. So why are you surprised he walked into a wall? Why are you shocked that he walked into it _repeatedly_ and now doesn't know how to find his way out of the corner?”

Stiles snickered at that imagery and then blinked. Blinked again. Opened his mouth and let out a choked sound. Shut it. Got angry.

“You're blaming me?!”

“I'm not blaming you,” Scott waved his hand to cut him off, “Derek fucked up. You told him it wasn't working and he should have been more pro-active, but everything before that? That was on you! You freaked him and his family out, and yeah, you didn't know they had, like, _massive_ PTSD, but still! You lied and made yourself hella untrustworthy! If I didn't know you, if some omega showed up for a packmate or something, and acted the way you did? If there were other cubs to consider like Laura's kids? I'd run them out, Stiles. I'd have _run you out of the pack._ At least they didn't chase you off, they just ignored you and hoped you'd go away. It could have gone _so much worse.”_

“Four people are dead, Scott,” Stiles snapped.

“Yeah, they are, and I'm _not_ blaming you for that, okay? I swear, I'm not. Those people were clearly not good people, and they tried to take advantage of you,” Scott gripped Stiles' hand, “Everything you did when feral is _not your fault._ Legally and morally. You're not a murderer, but you _are_ a manipulator Stiles. Have been since you were a toddler. Normally you're on the good side, but dude? This time you crossed over to the dark side.”

“Don't you think I _know?_ ” Stiles whispered, “I just... I don't know how to _fix it.”_

“Really?” Scott threw up his hands, “Because that Doctor told you how, and it's testament to how fucked up this has gotten you that you haven't freaking noticed!”

“I can't _make_ Derek give me a choice, Scott!” Stiles argued, “If I could, none of this would have happened!”

“No, this happened because you were trying to _take his choice away,”_ Scott told him, “Where did the blind thing even come from? Because when I talked to you last, your plan was straightforward. Tell the alpha who took you home that you wanted to go back. That you weren't mate material. Be your usual annoying self. You would give them visitation. Full stop. You knew the risks, _you had a spreadsheet_.”

“Pie chart.”

“Whatever.”

Stiles chewed on his finger in thought, “I didn't know what it would be like. The pull. This... intense longing. He smelled so good, and felt so good, and when he held me it was like he couldn't get enough of me and I.... I was scared because I couldn't get enough of him. I wasn't just using being fake-blind to make myself less appealing, there are loads of ways I could have done that and I'd planned others out. I was hiding.”

“You were making _him_ less appealing.”

“I just thought if I could keep one of my senses from wanting him for the rest of my life that I could go home and not regret it all forever,” Stiles' voice cracked, “How fucked up is that? Walking stereotype Stiles Stilinski. Took one sniff of an alpha, got one good fuck, and I was _sold._ I was ready to give up all my plans before I even got my clothes back on. I was ready to stay with him. A stranger. Who could have been like _your dad.”_

“Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck him,” Stiles sniffled.

“I'm sorry,” Scott gave Stiles' hand another squeeze, “I'm sorry this hurts so much, but Stiles. You can _fix this._ Stop being passive. Start being yourself.”

Stiles nodded, and for once when he blinked back tears they stopped falling. He was done crying. He was calm and with a slow, shaky breath, he looked out the window and realized they were close.

“You're right,” Stiles nodded.

“Holy shit, why wasn't I recording that?” Scott whispered in awe.

“Shut up,” Stiles laughed lightly, rubbing his belly where his child was kicking aggressively, “We missed our appointment. I was going to find out the sex two days ago.”

Scott put his hand over the belly, something Derek hadn't allowed him to do when he'd visited, “Whatever they are, they're a Stilinski and that's all that matters.”

Stiles gave him the glare that required, “The moment's over, Scott. Stop quoting posters.”

“Sorry,” He laughed lightly, then leaned over and smacked a kiss on Stiles' cheek, “I missed the real you.”

“Ugh, so sappy. Cut it out!” Stiles groaned, rolling his eyes and looking away.

They pulled up to the building and Stiles used his keycard without much hope, but it opened up for him. The security guard at the desk- who was _never freaking there most days-_ gave him a murderous glare. Stiles was done being cowed by alphas and stuck his tongue out before stepping into the elevator. The asshole _growled_. Fuck him.

Stiles' key turned in the lock, he hit the elevator button, and they arose into his own personal hell. Stiles let out a soft breath and rubbed his sore back, and then his belly, and then groaned loudly.

“Pregnancy _sucks!_ When the puking finally stopped the _pain_ started, and the doctor was like 'be prepared to be miserable for a long time with those hips'. Like I wanted these hips?!”

“They're hips?” Scott asked, confused by the conversation entirely, “I mean... are you supposed to have an extra set just for pregnancy?”

“Yes,” Stiles nodded, “Like daywear and nightclothes. One for luring in the alphas with my god-like twink status, and another for bearing children.”

“Twinks _are_ godlike,” Stiles nodded.

“We really are,” Stiles nodded.

“I wish I was a twink,” Scott frowned.

“You're a twunk,” Stiles poked his chest, “Own it.”

“Really?” Scott's face lit up like Christmas.

“Solid twunk.”

“Aww, that's so sweet of you to say!” Scott got the _Allison_ look suddenly and Stiles felt his soul descend into the pits of hell and stay there, “Do you think Isaac thinks I'm a twunk?”

“Isaac?” Stiles asked, then for added emphasis _shrieked it_ , “ISAAC?!”

Scott was oblivious. Dear, gods and goddesses, he'd gone full _Allison!!_

“He's kind of quiet, but he plays the same video games I do.”

“I didn't even know he had a video game _system_ seeing as how he spent the last several months _ignoring and avoiding me completely_.”

The elevator opened, Stiles stomped out, unlocked Derek's door after a brief knock, and flung it open in a strop.

Then stopped dead. Derek's entire pack was there, most of them puffy-eyed from crying, and they were all staring at him with wide eyes.

“No,” Stiles put out one hand, “No way. Absolutely not. Scott has spent the ride here detailing how very wrong I was, and that I never told you how sorry I was, so for the record _I know I fucked up_ , but no. We're not doing this. I'm pregnant. I'm tired. I'm stressed to hell. My bloodpressure is _through the roof._ I'm not going back into the hospital because you decided to confront me and send me back into fucking _shock_.”

“No one is confronting you,” Laura put up her hands quickly, “We want to talk to Scott.”

Stiles threw up his hands, “Scott, your alphaness is required. Where's my stuff?”

“Right here,” Noah stated, stepping forward to hug him tightly, “You'll feel so much better one Scott re-claims you as a packmate. Your bloodpressure will stabilize... you'll be okay. Then we'll head home. What I'd like to know his why it _hasn't happened yet?”_

Noah glared at Scott and he winced, “I wanted Stiles to try one last thing with Derek.”

“Through there,” Cora told him, sniffling and pointing at Derek's bedroom, “Derek's in there. He's... he's pretty upset.”

“Cora!” Laura hissed, “Don't talk to him!”

The social worker was in the corner and she stood up to give Stiles a sad smile and put a hand out for him. He ignored it. He walked to the room and she followed.

Derek was in there, looking broken and sobbing like a man destroyed. He was surrounded by cardboard boxes, one of them with a picture of a crib on it. He was sending Stiles home with the baby furniture. Doctor Morrell's idea suddenly didn't seem too far fetched, not in the face of the man who Derek was now. Here was all the loss he bottled up, all the fear realized. Stiles had destroyed him. Was taking his cub from him. Again.

  
Stiles swallowed the guilt as the social worker stepped forward and tried to get Stiles to leave the room, chiding him for pestering 'the alpha'. Not his mate, just _the alpha_. Derek kept his head down, ashamed, and then stood up to leave the room without a word. As he walked passed Stiles the omega struggled to find the words he needed and the scent of his mate hit him hard. He shuddered. Derek did as well, and when he caught on that Stiles hadn't had his bond broken yet- that what he was feeling wasn't the dwindling vestiges, but a _full bond-_ he grabbed him and pulled him against him tightly. Their lips connected and Stiles melted against him with a whimper. Derek's hand touched his belly and their cub kicked his hand in a sudden staccato.

The social worker shouted and Scott was in the room in an instant, alarmed and looking for a fight.

“He'll re-claim him! Stop him, alpha!”

“He can't _re-_ claim him, he hasn't had his bond broken yet,” Scott shrugged.

“Why on earth not?!” The social worker shouted, “He was supposed to take the pills the moment you arrived!”

“Because I wouldn't let him,” Scott gave her his usual goofy grin.

“You're responsible for this omega! No wonder things have gone so wrong! I'm taking him back to Eichen _immediately_! If no alpha in his life has his best interests at heart than _we will.”_

“Run away with me,” Stiles against Derek's lips, startling them all.

“What?” She asked, confused by Stiles' words. It was too assertive for an omega, for a start, and it probably didn't make much sense anyway.

Derek looked confused as well, and he leaned back an inch to stop taking huge gulping breaths of Stiles' scent and look him in the eye, “What?”

“I want an education and a career and you want a baby. So let's stop failing at this by doing it the way we're expected to _._ I started out planning on being unconventional, and now I'm going to be that way and I want you with me. As my alpha. As my mate. Join Scott's pack and run away with me. Come be a housespouse while I go to school and work two part-time jobs and never sleep. Come with me and raise your cub. If Scott claims you, you're a part of his pack and he's responsible for both of us. It changes _everything_.”

The social worker _snorted._ Laura was the head of Derek's pack. While most alphas left their familial packs to form non-familial ones where mating were possible, it wasn't necessary and once established and well into adulthood most alphas wouldn't change without there being a catalyst. The social worker obviously didn't think one omega was important enough to change a whole pack around for.

Derek looked at Stiles with his mouth open and eyes wide, unsure and afraid to be hopeful.

“You want that?” He asked, voice destroyed from days of weeping.

“I do,” Stiles nodded, “I wanted choices and someone managed to remind me that I'm in a position to _give them to you.”_

Derek's eyes slid to Scott, “You'd let me?”

“He loves you, the idiot,” Scott shrugged one shoulder, “But can we bring I-”

“Say Isaac and I'll kill you,” Stiles hissed at Scott, eyes narrow and threatening.

“Sorry,” Scott giggled.

“I need to-” Derek gestured around himself vaguely at all his things and for a moment Stiles' hopes fell. He wouldn't leave his job and his nice things and his _camaro_ when he could just petition for visitation. He'd probably get it, even if people were saying it was unlikely at this point. He was innocent, after all. His pack was to blame, and had obviously realized their guilt based on their expressions.

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles nodded, feeling like an idiot. He'd been so _sure._

“Just a few essentials,” Derek jerked away and started tearing drawers out of his dresser and just dropping them on the floor, hands shaking as he searched for something, “Pants. Shirts. Underwear. Laptop. Can I bring my laptop?”

“You can bring whatever you want,” Stiles breathed out, realizing he'd misunderstood yet again, “We need, like, so much therapy, but we can do this.”

“Fuck. Shit. I have to-”

Derek stopped tearing his room apart and hurried over to Scott who was standing beside the gobsmacked social worker. Scott nodded and put out his arms to accept Derek into the pack. Stiles watched with baited breath as Derek bowed formally and then dropped to his knees in supplication to the alpha he planned to obey. Scott awkwardly dropped his arms. He'd only ever welcomed in a beta, not another alpha. It was a very different process. Betas were hugged, marked, and gently bitten. It was a lovey-dovey process followed by movie night.

Scott tried to put his hands on Derek's shoulders, then dropped them, then muttered an apology and grabbed Derek savagely by the hair. He jerked his head back and bit down hard on his shoulder. A different sort of claiming bite than Derek had give Stiles, avoiding the mating gland, but solidifying their connection and Derek's offer of obeisance.

Stiles felt the pack connection click back into place like a physical rush and had to quickly sit down on the nearby sofa. His head spun, he saw stars, he _felt_ his father, Melissa, Liam, Lydia, Jackson, and Scott all wrapped around his heart in warm coils of love, support, and safety (Jackson just felt annoyed). Stiles let out a shuddering breath and sagged back. His pain wasn't gone, of course, but it was vastly diminished. Like the memory of carrying too much weight for too long. His chest didn't feel tight anymore, his heart was steady and beating sure instead of fluttering and making him feel like he couldn't catch his breath. Stiles felt sore but complete. Right. Hopeful. Optimistic.

Then Laura roared.


	28. Chapter 28

“It looks like a home,” Derek breathed out as he stepped out of the car to survey the Stilinski residence.

“Yup,” Stiles nodded, “No modifying open floor plans to make space for a kid here.”

“That's because there's no _room_ for a kid,” Noah grimaced.

“Nope, just have to build an addition onto it to make space,” Stiles laughed, leaning against the vehicle and groaning in discomfort, “Good thing I lured in an architect.”

“Here,” Scott offered, letting him lean on him to head to the walkway. After a few steps he was okay on his own. Just a bit of travel discomfort.

“Do we have time to build an addition?” Derek worried.

“You're the architect,” Stiles shrugged, “We'll make it work somehow. Dad will be chill. He's just glad to have me home.”

Derek let the others unpack their overnight bags, leaving his own by the couch, and stepped outside to survey the house. It would be fairly easy to put a single story addition onto the house, but a second story might run into issues and that was what Derek would prefer to do. Expanding both stories meant room for more cubs, not just an in-law suite for Noah. He headed back inside and pulled his work bag out, finding the smaller sketch pad he kept with him for random ideas. He quickly sketched out both ideas and waited for Noah to collapse into his easy chair with a heavy sigh.

“I hope we aren't moving again,” He groaned, “That was hell on me.”

“We aren't,” Derek stated, coming around to sit down beside him, “  
Stiles' whole pack is here and I won't take him away from that again.”

“What about yours?” Noah gave him the side-eye.

“ _My_ whole pack is here,” Derek stated firmly.

Since Derek had switched packs rather than formed a merger with Scott, who was unlikely to accept such terms, he had officially stepped out of his familial pack. However, that didn't make them stop being _family_ , and that was what he had assured a weeping Laura after she felt their bond snap at the penthouse. Her terrified eyes would surely haunt him. She had been arguing with her pack when Derek had submitted to Scott, and thanks to the noise resistant doors that meant she heard nothing. She had thought that Derek had taken one look at Stiles, bond broken and re-claimed by Scott- and _killed himself_. Her relief at seeing him alive after she burst in had been short lived when she realized she had unintentionally driven off her familial packmate.

Derek repeated what he'd told her, “We'll have holidays and birthdays, not to mention business trips. Assuming my company doesn't collapse between me causing a scandal and then up and leaving. I'm confident that those I left in charge can handle the basics, I'll be working from home here, and heaven knows I have a cell phone if they really need to talk to me immediately.”

“What you got there?” Noah asked, glancing at it curiously.

“Thoughts on expanding the house for you and Stiles to look at. He's not lifting things, is he?” Derek glanced upwards and raised his voice a bit, but Stiles shouted a petulant 'no' and then promptly dropped something and swore.

Derek smiled softly and shook his head in amusement.

“You're going to be okay giving up that shiny penthouse for our little hovel?” Noah asked, “Not too late to flash money at Stiles again. He might fold, you know. He nearly did. The social worker let him leave with you since Scott was there, so if we got someone from our neck of the woods to stay with you for a bit so Stiles isn't packless in New York...”

“Hard pass,” Derek shook his head, “Money can't buy Stiles' happiness, which is exactly what he'd tried to tell me from the door. He needs his freedom, the excitement of learning new things and climbing some corporate ladder somewhere. His own, not mine. He needs his pack, not a new one. He... calls for them in his sleep. I thought Melissa was a love interest for a while until he said she was the closest he had to a mom.”

Noah's eyes turned sad, “She's an amazing woman, that Melissa. She and I are close as kin, and it broke her heart to think Stiles was away and unhappy. I imagine you'll meet her soon enough. She won't stay away now he's back.”

“I hope she can forgive me,” Derek glanced down at the papers, “I hope everyone can.”

Noah gave his knee a squeeze and Stiles shuffled downstairs, huffing and puffing but looking so much better that Derek felt his heart stutter in his chest. He hadn't realized how awful the pregnancy had been for Stiles without the emotional and mental bond of a pack helping him through it. Scott was close on his heels, making sure Stiles didn't fall and grinning like a loon.

“He's mad all his stuff has to be shipped,” Scott warned.

“I'm not mad, I'm just cranky! BIG difference,” Stiles gave Scott a shooing motion now that he was on the first floor, “So. Let's see this plan you've got!”

“Two plans,” Derek held them out, “First is fastest. Builds a quick in-law suite on the side of the house for your dad so he can have space from the baby and still be close.”

“Whoa, I doubt we can afford a suite even if we do the work ourselves,” Stiles frowned.

Derek did as well, “My money isn't gone, Stiles. It _could_ be bad, but even if my company folds it will take time. In the now I'm still rich.”

“Your stock dropped. Like, a _lot_.”

Derek shrugged, “Stock does that. It's not indicative of a company's future success or failure or my bank balance. If we're being honest: me being here is more likely to make it succeed. I'm showing strong 'moral character' by making things right with you. At the moment people think I'm an abuser, and they don't want to support a business with that black mar on it's name, even if the victim was an omega.”

Stiles frowned, “Only because I'm pregnant. If I'd been in that cafe crying over a black eye just a few months later they'd have laughed me out and sent me home.”

Derek's eyes darkened, “That's awful and I hate that you had to fear that from me when we first met.”

Stiles sighed, “So. In-law suite is an option. What's the other idea? Add a mansion to the back?”

Derek snorted, “More like a second story, Oh Sarcastic One.”

“That's Great and Powerful Sarcastic One to you, bub,” Stiles studied the drawing, “This looks amazing. Two extra rooms upstairs and one big sprawling one for dad. Is that a kitchenette right off of our kitchen? Seems redundant.”

“It won't be during midnight feedings,” Noah intoned.

“I was thinking a side door here to access the backyard without going through his place, maybe with a small porch. It would cut into his space, but make the whole thing more livable and give us a vantage point to see the yard and the cubs playing in it even if we're grilling.”

“Awww, you sound local!” Stiles cooed, “Grilling on the porch! Will it be steaks or burgers?”

Derek sniffed rudely and took his drawing back, “Just for that I'm not upgrading your bathroom.”

“Lies,” Stiles snorted, “I think we should go full upgrade. No way you're going to want just one baby. Dad might want to camp out at Melissa's until it's done though, because that's gonna take time.”

Derek nodded, “At least six months, which means the baby will be born by then, and that's assuming I can get zoning through at all and that I pay a _lot_ of workers to work _really_ fast.”

“That's gonna suck,” Stiles agreed.

“It is, but it will be worth it in the end,” Derek stood up and kissed his temple, “Because you're right. With pack here another pregnancy won't be so exhausting for you and I want that. More of your babies.”

Stiles smiled, “For now, but you just wait until you've had a few sleepless weeks Mr. Stay-At-Home-Dad.”


	29. Chapter 29

Derek wanted to _cry._ It was a beautiful day out so the workers were building outside and after _not_ sleeping all night Claudia was _furious._ She was screaming and kicking, red in the face as she screwed up her little eyes and arched her back and scratched at her face and onesie. Derek hurried to pack her into her stroller and buckle her in despite her fighting him tooth and nail. He grabbed the diaper bag, three bottles with powder in them, a bottle of filtered water to add to the powder, and fled the house he'd come to both love and hate.

Stiles was at class, and while it was a lovely place to walk with the baby it was also a drive away and Derek was too tired to safely drive. Instead he walked down the street to the little park near Stiles' house that his cubs would be playing at someday. It gave him hope to see it, to picture Claudia swinging from the monkey bars and sliding down the plastic tube slide, dress filthy and eyes bright. It was a more than ideal place to live and Derek adored it. The second the fresh air and swinging buggy got through her distress Claudia was asleep, but there was no relief for Derek who had to keep her safe. He couldn't just trust that the neighborhood was safe and snooze under a tree.

Derek pulled out his sketch book and started to work, putting out rough sketches that he would turn into blueprints the second he had time to. After sleeping. For _days_. Claudia slept a solid four hours and then woke up happy, so he took her out of her stroller and gave her tummy time on the grass. She stared around her with wide eyes and cooed at the children playing nearby.

Derek fought his heavy eyelids, and when she started to fuss he gave her her bottle and let her fall back to sleep again. She needed it, and hopefully he would be able to _keep_ her asleep. Derek headed back to the house with the buggy helping her stay under. The crew was still working but Derek was hopeful, and sure enough she slept through the work this time. Derek left her secured in her stroller and collapsed on his face on the couch. He didn't remember hitting the pillow.

Claudia's cries dragged Derek into consciousness but he only rolled over since he also heard the soft shushing of his mate. Stiles was smiling down at Claudia, looking tired himself after she'd kept him up part of the night and he'd had to go to class. He'd ended up sleeping in the jeep so he was functional enough to make it through the day. He was tugging his shirt up and Claudia greedily latched on to nurse, instantly dropping the room back to silence. She only suckled a bit. She liked the formula better and only nursed because she liked Stiles' scent. Stiles was practically dried up already.

“She slept a bit?”

“A bit,” Derek groaned, “We went to the park.”

“You look dead on your feet.”

“I'm dead on my face and staying here,” Derek groaned, “I didn't get any work done.”

“You have other architects and you're on paternity leave. Wait until she gets a bit older before you go back to work. When she's sleeping at least five hours a night you'll be able to finish your sketches.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, then promptly fell back to sleep again.

Stiles got Claudia fed, spent time with her, did his homework when she finally fell asleep again, and then finally gave up and woke up Derek.

“Hey, babe,” Stiles gave him a sympathetic look, “I'm really sorry, but I'm beat. I have to sleep for class.”

“I'll keep her quiet tonight,” Derek promised.

“She's a baby, not a TV. You can't turn her _down,”_ Stiles chuckled, but kissed his cheek and headed upstairs.

At the moment, Claudia was taking over the living room. Her crib and all her toys were here, and Derek usually slept on the couch beside her crib. However, nothing was like it was before. There was no distance or discomfort between each other like there had been at the penthouse despite their sleeping arrangements. They weren't sharing a bed because Stiles' room was tiny and Claudia needed a lot of space. They still kissed, held each other, and spoke soft words of love when they found the time. They were a happy couple, but Stiles had gone back to school after the birth as fast as he could and Derek was feeling very alone.

He changed Claudia, fed her, burped her, put her down to sleep again, and _hoped._ She was only a month old. She was _not_ going to sleep the night through, which meant Derek had to sleep when she did, but Derek had yet to feed _himself._ He got up, ate a quick sandwich, pissed, brushed his teeth for the first time in ages, and stumbled back to the couch to sleep.

Claudia startled him awake and the cycle continued. Derek both hated and loved it, but the next day bloomed new and Claudia dealt with the sound better. Each day slowly improved as Claudia slowly began to sleep more and more at night and less during the day. Stiles tried to relieve him for a bit each day, and eventually the add-on was done and they all shuffled rooms. Claudia got her own room in Stiles' old room, they both moved into the master bedroom, and Noah moved into a nice in-law suite with an open floor plan. It had an upright soaking tub in the bathroom and a small kitchenette with just a microwave, sink, and mini-fridge since he was so close to the main kitchen. They went with a patio instead of a porch so that they'd have a bit more space and could have a table out back.

Upstairs one of the new bedrooms became Derek's library/office and he almost sobbed at the sight of his very own desk. The second room was designated spare bedroom, but for now just stored extra baby gear that wasn't used regularly.

Claudia didn't sleep a wink the first 24 hours after moving, which was expected since she was quite suddenly without her daddy next to her _and_ in a new space. Derek didn't deal alone. Stiles had timed it to make sure he had a few days off of his classes when they moved her stuff, so he and Derek slept in shifts that night and spent the following day keeping her awake with just short naps so she wasn't emotionally spent on crying. They spent time talking about their relationship and how nice it would be to sleep side-by-side again.

The next night Claudia let up a screaming cry at being in the new room alone, despite them having left their shoes in the room and laid a shirt underneath of her crib sheet to keep their smell nearby. The mobile over the bed, noise dampener at the door, and a toy that vibrated the crib to make her feel handled did _nothing._ Stiles and Derek laid in their bed and listened to her wail, bodies tense and hands clutched.

“Let's just-” Stiles started to sit up.

“No,” He pulled him back down.

“But-”

“She's fine, Stiles.”

“But she's _upset_.”

“She had a nice bedtime, Stiles. A lovely bedtime. Full of your milk and formula and snuggles and songs and books. She has our scent near. She's fine.”

“It's just-”

“I've been taking care of her for months now, nearly alone, Stiles. Trust me to know her cries. She's winding down. She'll be asleep in a few minutes. She's _okay.”_

Stiles let out a slow breath, “I hate that I wasn't here.”

“You needed to go to school, Stiles. It was important for your mental health. She wasn't _alone_. I'm her daddy, just like I wanted to be. She was with me, and I loved every second.”

“Liar.”

“I hated it _so much.”_

There was a moment of silence. Then several. Then minutes. Then an _hour,_ and Derek was nearly drifting off when Stiles whispered.

“Wanna do it again?”

“Hell, yes.”

Stiles let out a slow breath, rolled over, and ran his hand down Derek's chest slowly. Derek's cock got the picture _very_ quickly.

“Wait, _now?”_ Derek hissed.

“No, jackass, I'm on birth control. She's going to be in fucking _school_ before we commit to this insanity again. And by school I mean college. We're just gonna practice. I mean... if you want to?”

“Oh gods, yes,” Derek moaned, rolling over and pulling him against himself.

They kissed slowly, tongues gliding together and teeth clicking as they pressed their bodies flush together. Stiles had been a bit nervous about the weight he'd gained in the last month of his pregnancy, and he hadn't lost all of it just yet. Derek loved it. He loved everything about Stiles; his strength, ferocity, beauty, humor, and the child he'd given him. And _that ass._ Holy shit, Stiles had a body worth eating off of, little bitty belly or no!

“I'm going to _humiliate_ myself,” Derek groaned against his neck as he kissed down it towards his shoulder.

“Not if I get there first,” Stiles whimpered, “I just... Ugh, you're so hot with a baby, you have no idea. This big, muscular powerhouse of a guy with a tiny baby draped across one arm and this soft smile on your face. I've been wanting to just tear your pants off with my teeth for _weeks.”_

“I'd have let you!” Derek sat back, horrified that they hadn't fucked sooner.

“Every time the baby was asleep you were, too.”

“Those fucking baby books told me to sleep when she did!” He blamed aggressively.

Stiles chuckled, “I don't think you had any biological choice, to be honest. Come here. Talk later. Fuck now.”

“That's my line,” Derek grumbled, but he snuggled in and slid his hands beneath Stiles' sleep pants to cup his full, bare ass, “Oh _yeeesss.”_

“Love you some ham hocks,” Stiles teased, voice breathy with desire.

Stiles drove him insane. Every time the young man moved Derek wanted him. His scent was addictive, his taste a craving, his mind glorious, and the man himself was beautiful beyond compare as he undulated against Derek's body. He doubted they'd get inside of each other that night, not with how touch starved they both were. Derek just wanted to get _off,_ he didn't much care how.

Stiles' pants did make it down to his knees, and Derek's briefs were tucked under his balls, but that was all the clothing that came off. That wasn't to say their hands didn't wander far, though. Derek stroked Stiles' puffy nipples and nibbled his ears, he licked a finger and stroked Stiles' damp pucker until he was able to slide inside of his body with at least a single digit. Stiles let out broken off moans and rolled his hips, one of his hands with their _sinfully_ long fingers gripping both of their cocks. Derek's longer member was rubbing against Stiles' belly, and that was right were he spilled himself as pleasure curled through him and left him panting against Stiles' lips. Stiles wasn't far behind.

For a moment they lay there, holding each other, Derek's finger sliding out of Stiles' body, just breathing in each other's scent and loving the _privacy._

Then Claudia cried, and this time it was a real cry. Derek groaned, “That's her wet diaper cry.”

“It is so sexy that you know her wet diaper cry,” Stiles insisted despite Derek's raised eyebrow, “When you get her back to sleep come fuck me. I want that baby-cry-divining dick in my ass.”

“That sounded creepy,” Derek told him as he headed for the bathroom to wash up, “Just so you know.”

“Shut up, you love it,” Stiles yawned.

He was out cold when Derek slipped back into bed, but he was fine to snuggle up to his sticky lover and go to sleep as well. He was exhausted, even if he was still thrumming with arousal. Coming once was certainly not enough after so long. So Derek set an alarm on his phone and hoped Stiles was game.

Claudia didn't wake up before them, so that was one bridge crossed, and Stiles came awake just enough to consent to sex and hook a leg over Derek's hips. Derek chuckled at his lack of effort and hauled him closer. He needed lube since Stiles wasn't in heat, so he worked it into Stiles' body while he snored softly against Derek's collar. It was a soft sound, a comforting one for a werewolf who had missed his mate for so many months. He didn't resent Stiles' tiredness. Derek would get naps throughout the day, but Stiles had to stay awake at school all day most days. Derek's sleep had adjusted and Stiles' had not.

Finally Stiles' body was wet enough for him, both with his natural slick as he became aroused while asleep and the lube Stiles had worked into his body. Stiles' cock was rubbing against his hip, hard and leaking precome. Clearly his lover was still as needy as Derek.

Stiles woke up as Derek slid inside, his eyes fluttering open, whiskey depths with golden flecks, and met Derek's eyes. He let out a soft, punched sound while scratching at his shoulders weakly.

“My mate,” Stiles choked out, but then let his head fall back and snored again.

Derek snorted and began to thrust slowly in and out of his body. He didn't want to wake Stiles, but he really and truly needed to knot him. He sped up slowly to let him continue to sleep, working himself up to the speed he needed. His knot was passed popped, his body drenched in sweat from holding himself off, when he finally pushed it past the guardian muscle and into Stiles' wet, tight, heat. He couldn't hold back the cry of relief, but Stiles just opened his eyes, smiled, and sighed happily.

Stiles pressed their lips together for a kiss, but Derek was gone. He was coming in buckets, his body held the way it needed to be for a drawn-out climax that would go on until his knot released. He whimpered and clung to Stiles and trembled through his pleasure. Stiles murmured his name and reached down to touch himself, slowly bringing himself off with a soft sigh of pleasure before relaxing back into the bed.

Derek didn't know he could sleep while having an orgasm, but it turned out he could. He woke up to Claudia's cries with Stiles trying to slip out of the bed. Derek groaned as the knot popped free. Stiles pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Sleep. I got this, Super Dad.”

Derek didn't actually sleep very long this time. He dozed for a bit and then woke up feeling well rested for the first time in ages. Stiles was singing softly in the baby room, the door closed but the noise machine off. He walked in to find Stiles nursing Claudia, something he didn't get to do often because she preferred the bottle. She must have wanted some snuggle time after sleeping alone for the first time because she was staring up at Stiles with unblinking eyes and mouthing more than feeding.

“ _Winkin, Blinkin, and Nod,_ ” Stiles sang softly, glancing up at Derek with a soft smile, “She woke up playing. Forgot to eat. She was _so_ mad I insisted on changing her diaper.”

“She's so much like you,” Derek chuckled.

“Hey, at least I cleaned my butt _willingly_ before doing anything milk related.”

Derek chuckled, smiling down at him as he rocked her gently, “Want me to take over?”

Stiles gave him a guilty look, “Um... do you really want to? Cause I seriously am missing so much time with her at school and-”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek cut him off gently, “Enjoy her. I'm going to start breakfast for _us_ and get some work done.”

“Thanks,” Stiles breathed out, “I've got a week before classes resume and I just need all the baby time I can get.”

“You got it,” Derek chuckled, and headed downstairs to their kitchen, “Damn, I guess I'm on vacation, too!”

_Holy shit,_ their _kitchen!_ With Noah formally moved out, the house was _theirs_ and Derek was thrilled to have his own space again. It hadn't felt right to prepare food when it was _Noah's_ kitchen. It felt like he was stepping on his toes even when he was asleep upstairs. Now Derek started tearing things out of the cabinet, rearranging things and sorting through broken mugs to form a donate pile. Noah had already taken what he wanted from the kitchen, and he'd check with Stiles to make sure nothing was precious to him and then-

“What are you doing?” Stiles laughed at him.

“Hm?” Derek looked over his shoulder from where he was kneeling on the kitchen counter, searching the cabinet above the fridge that was more dust than dishes.

“Where's breakfast?” Stiles asked, Claudia was chewing on her fist in his arms, “Why are there so many mugs on the table? I thought you got enough sleep. Do you seriously need... twelve cups of coffee?”

“I thought we could donate them.”

“Are you _rearranging_ my kitchen?” Stiles asked.

Derek blinked, “Uh... Our kitchen?”

Stiles' eyes crinkled as he smiled broadly at Derek, “Awww! You're nesting!”

If he hadn't have been holding their infant Derek would have thrown a mug at him.


	30. Chapter 30

YEAH, THIS VERSION DID not WORK OUT.

So, I originally wanted them to stay in the penthouse, but the longer I thought the logistics out and the more the plot got angsty the less likely it was. Here's where I was headed with things. This was to take place during the business dinner that Stiles willingly attended, pre-Isaac revealing he couldn't bond with Stiles, and would have replaced everything after with a snuggly ending in which Stiles stayed with Derek's pack and just visited Scott on holidays. It just didn't feel realistic with their trauma and Stiles' lies.

Isaac was glancing back and forth between Stiles and Boyd, eyes wide and surprised, “I'll be here, too.”

Stiles wasn't sure what was happening but he was suddenly excited. They were _talking to him._ He perked up and nodded eagerly.

“Exactly. It takes a pack to raise a child. This little one will never be alone or want for _anything._ Ever.”

“Pack and family,” Laura spoke softly, smiling at Derek with a playful grin, “The pitter-patter of little feet again!”

A scent caught his nose and he turned his head sharply to see Derek looking a bit misty eyed, his hand squeezing Stiles' tightly as Erica finally spoke up as well.

“Luckily the little tyke will have me for a cool aunt,” She stated firmly, “So I should balance out Derek's lack of chill.”

“Thank goodness for that!” Stiles laughed, “Don't get me wrong, he's a sexy business man, but there _is_ no chill!”

Derek laughed lightly, blushing a bit but in the next moment he cleared his throat and redirected the conversation towards business.

Stiles, however, was standing in the kitchen with a glass of water in a flute glass and a sudden and intense _itch_ behind his eyes. He felt like he was vibrating from head to toe. Everything was too loud, too distracting, too frustrating. He had to get the hell out. Now. Stiles quite suddenly bolted for the door and Laura let out a surprised sound that put Derek on alert, but instead of leaving he bolted it shut and then stared at it in confusion. Why the hell had he just...?

Stiles turned and took off again, this time scrambling up the steps to the loft above using hands to speed up the process like an animal. He got up into their private area and began tearing the sofa apart, stripping it down and throwing the pillows onto the floor. A step behind him had him jumping and throwing a nearby book at the person approaching. It was Derek. He caught it and frowned at him, but when he saw what he was doing he spoke softly instead of approach.

“Do you need anything?”

“Blankets,” Stiles stated without thinking, “From our bed.”

“Okay. On it.”

Derek went downstairs and he heard him mention in a soft voice that Stiles was _nesting._ There was a round of cheers which were quickly shushed when Stiles threw a candlestick over the edge at them all. He felt like a wild creature, rearranging furniture and hurriedly adjusting pillows and blocking in the area. He managed to get some shelves moved and made a small room where the library had once been, all surrounding the fireplace with the couch on the far side. He had cushions on the ground around it and the bassinet for co-sleeping. He was ready to give birth in that space within a few hours time, but he still had five months to go.

Derek tried to approach again after the party ended and the group had all left, and this time Stiles let him because there were no more strangers in their den. He peered in through the small opening that Stiles had left and smiled at the space he'd made.

“It looks so soft,” Derek whispered, “Are you going to sleep in here?”

“I don't know,” Stiles replied, fiddling with a stuffed rabbit, “I'm sorry I embarrassed you in front of your clients.”

“You didn't,” Derek replied easily, “This is natural Stiles. It's... it's beautiful.”

Stiles turned and looked up at him finally, smiling at him as he hovered by the entrance. He gestured for him to enter and Derek turned sideways to slip in and looked around himself eagerly. Stiles tried to see it from his eyes and wondered if Derek knew the significance of where he had things. It made sense to Stiles, but it had all been instinctive. Would Derek have the same urges?

“You'll give birth here?” Derek indicated the sofa.

“No, here,” Stiles motioned to the bedding, “I want to be able to stand and squat when I'm able to. It's easier for male omegas. And Deaton will be on the couch to have a spot to stabilize himself, lean over me, rest, stash his gear, whatever.”

“And the fire going or not?”

“Not sure. I might be too hot. This is just... like... my safe area. When I was young and had romantic ideals I had that whole Beauty and the Beast fantasy, you know?”

Derek nodded.

“I kept thinking that... to be wanted that much... to be surrounded by things I could talk to that would talk back... to not be alone...”

“And the library part didn't hurt, either,” Derek grumbled.

Stiles laughed lightly, “Yeah.”

“They thought you hated me and the baby,” Derek stated by way of explanation for the pack, “They told me before they left. Laura was... she was planning on keeping you from ever meeting my niece and nephew. _Your_ niece and nephew. There were so many horrible thoughts in their heads and I didn't even notice.”

“I tried to tell you,” Stiles pointed out glumly.

“I didn't want to think they'd mistreat _my mate,_ but they did, didn't they? You didn't nest until they opened up to you tonight. You were afraid to have our cub here. If that had gone on you would have built a nest somewhere else. Somewhere away from our home.”

“Not that far. Probably in my dad's room,” Stiles snorted.

“I don't want you having our baby in your dad's room,” Derek told him, “I want you to have them _here.”_

“I will,” Stiles replied, patting the pillow he was sitting on, “Come here and help me make this place smell like us.”

Derek sat down beside him, wrapping his arms around Stiles and cuddling him close. Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes.

“That was an invitation for sex, idiot,” Stiles scolded.

“I'm not... I'm not in the mood,” Derek stated, body going stiff.

He expected Stiles to be upset.

“Okay,” Stiles replied comfortably, “Whenever you are, we're doing it here.”

“Okay.”

“Are you? Okay, I mean?”

Derek was silent a moment, “If they'd left you out, they would have left our cub out.”

“Oh. Oh, shit.”

“I'm angry, Stiles. I'm so fucking angry with them, but they were just following their instincts. Not trusting you because you were new and they hadn't bonded with you yet. Am I being irrational?”

“No.”

“I'm so _mad.”_

“Want me to read to you?”

Derek snorted, “Sure, Belle. Read to me.”

Stiles fetched a book from the easily reached shelves without even getting up and Derek laid down with his head in Stiles' lap and pressed kisses to his belly while Stiles read out loud.


	31. Minecraft Video Walkthrough of Penthouse

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxIVik1jIno>

I'm still working on the rest of the stories to go with this series. Just a heads up: Not a continuation. They will be different stories from the same AU, most Sterek pairings, all stand alone so you can skip the ones you don't like. 

**Author's Note:**

> FYI since this caused confusion, Derek is NOT the pack alpha. Laura is.


End file.
